


A Question of Lust, a Question of Trust

by Anonymous



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Anal Sex, Asperger Syndrome, Blow Jobs, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Facials, Forced Orgasm, Hand Jobs, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2018-03-14 15:49:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 44,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3416477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Originally written for <a href="http://tinyurl.com/p36tpcz"> this prompt.</a><br/>“Leo and Cris have reached the point in their relationship where they are beginning to explore each other sexually. Cris loves it and finds it very exciting. Leo… not so much. When he was 19, he was forced to have sex with Dinho, Deco and Sylvinho. It led to Leo being scared of anything sexual. He loves Cris and is attracted to him but after all that happened with him, he can't get himself to be intimate with him and is terrified every time Cris wants to take their relationship to the next level. Cris begins to feel self conscious and thinks that Leo doesn't want him. Leo finally breaks down and confesses why he reacts this way. Cue Cris comforting Leo, telling him he is perfect and 'not broken' in his eyes, worshipping his body and sweet comfort sex. Want detailed story of Cressi's relationship and Leo's fear/trauma.”</p><p>****</p><p>Cristiano is trying hard to make his awkward first relationship work. Leo is just running away. Three years ago, something bad had happened.</p><p>The title is from <a href="http://tinyurl.com/p68lnhz">A question of Lust - Depeche Mode</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. How to be in a Party

**Author's Note:**

> I have always had a sort of headcanon of Lionel being an Asperger, and I thought that this could fit this fic well. I do not want to offend anyone and I apologise in advance if what I am writing will sound wrong or inaccurate. Secondly, in even chapters there will be unnecessary graphic non-con/dub-con. Skip them if you feel uncomfortable with them. Finally, I am not a native English speaker: there will be mistakes. I will not be offended if you notice them.
> 
> According to my counts it should be set around the end of 2009, so Leo is 22 and Cris 24.
> 
> ****THE STORY HAS BEEN TRANSLATED INTO RUSSIAN BY [Nord_Sommer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nord_Sommer/pseuds/Nord_Sommer)****  
> You can find the translation [here](https://ficbook.net/readfic/5636274)
> 
> ****Lovely [Nord_Sommer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nord_Sommer/pseuds/Nord_Sommer) made also a collage and a playlist of the story. You can find them in the last chapter of the story.****

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Lionel and Cristiano met and told each other some little secrets

Cristiano inhaled, taking in the fresh autumn air of Madrid, walking to the garden of the house where the party was going on. He loved party, he really did: having fun with people, flirting with girls, hearing all the gossip. But sometimes things tended to escalate once alcohol was involved, and if there was one thing that Cristiano could not stand, it was overly drunk people.

Speaking of, he just raised an eyebrow and looked at the figure curled in on himself at the corner of the bush Cristiano had just passed. The figure rose up and stared at him with red eyes. Was that Messi?

Cristiano hadn’t even known he was there.

Like there in Madrid, forget even being at the party. Well, not that Cristiano should know his schedule. They weren’t exactly friends, but, indeed, Madrid was full of Argentinians these days, so Messi’s presence at the party made some kind of sense.

“Are you alright?” He asked more as a courtesy than out of any real interest.

“Better," Messi whined. "I hate when it happens”

“Drink less?”

“I am not drunk!”

Cristiano looked at him more closely. He was returning the side with a stubborn, clear face, no sign of the cloudiness of a drunk. He didn’t even smell alcohol, to be honest.

“So, are you really sick? Need a doctor?”

Leo shrugged. “No. This tends to happen when I am nervous”

“Nervous?” 

“I hate parties – he moaned - I tend to be nervous around people. But seems like I cannot avoid them all the time, and Pipa insisted so much. Only, he left me alone with unknown people and then…” he gestured on the mess at his feet. 

“Wow, you really are allergic to people” Cristiano stated rising eyebrows.

Leo looked at him intensively, as he was trying to understand what did the other mean. “Only if they are in grand quantity, and if I don’t know them”

“Large quantity?”

“Four or more.”

At this time Cristiano laughed openly and Lionel frown.

“I really doubt that four people could be considered 'a large amount'.”

This time Lionel really narrowed his eyes “Whatever”. He started to walk through the path.

Cristiano shrugged and decided to follow him. Maybe it was because he didn’t really want to go home so early. Maybe, just maybe, he was starting to be curious about the little man at his side. 

The “enemy”, the one that was supposed to be better than him. 

Cristiano never really stand him. The problem was never Lionel ability in football. He had his tricks but Cristiano had his own strength and he knew he could be as good, no, better than Lionel, considering their overall abilities. 

What Cristiano never stand was Lionel attitude. As he was not doing anything special, scoring like Maradona, winning prizes after prizes and always seeming like he didn’t care, like he was saying all the time “you know, I am just playing football as I was in the street with my friends and it happen by chance that it was the final of the Champions League instead”. False. 

Cristiano always though that all the Lionel’s modesty was just false, a play to cater to what people want: the genius, the golden boy, the perfect son, whatever.

Until that night, until Cris really talked to him and go further the hellos in the official ceremonies and started to realise that maybe, just maybe, Lionel was simply, really a little out of this world. That intrigued him, so, nevertheless he could see it was annoyed; he went on walking with him, and went on asking

“So, what about football, then?”

He frowned, again. “What about football?”

“You know? Usually there are far more than 4 people in a pitch”

“Yeah, but football is completely different. You know? I never feel as comfortable as with a ball on my feet. I know I can do everything with it, and every time I manage to play well I feel like free and it has been always be like that, since I was a kid and I was playing in the street with my brothers…”

 

“But still, there are people” Cristiano stopped the drawled Argentinian monologue. 

Lionel glanced at him as he was really pissed of about being interrupted but then he jolted as he was suddenly remembering something and started to wave a little, pondering what to say, or if he actually wanted to say more. At the end he shyly glanced down, as he added, “Football helped me a lot. I could be a weirdo, or sitting alone in the dressing room unable to speak, but when I am playing well… people like that and they are happy and cheer me up. So, yeah… football is different. But now it is throwing back. –He added with a sigh. “With fame I have to learn how to manage more people and social connection and… _this_ ” he waved in the direction of the house.

“We are really the opposite.”- Cristiano snorted –“In the pitch and in life. I think that fame and parties are actually a great thing that came with football” 

“Then why are you not inside?”

“They are too drunk. I hate drunken people. My father used to drink too much, and it didn’t ended well”

“Nh?”

“He died.” Cristiano cut out. It hurt. It was still hurting a lot, and he wasn’t really ready to speak about this. 

“I am sorry…”

“Yeah, and the worst thing is that now I am stuck here with my worst enemy, instead of having fun with nice girls” he joked, as sitting on the grass. But when he looked up to the other, he saw him frowning.

“ You are not force to stay with me.” He was turning around, ready to go, and Cristiano reached for his arm.

“I was just joking. Come here”

He look thoughtfully at him for a second, before letting be dragged down on the grass.

“I am sorry. I am not very good in understanding jokes. This and the parties and the people, is all going together with me being a little Aspie and I hate…” He suddenly stopped talking, and looked terrified at Cristiano “Oh my God! I shouldn’t tell you this! My father will kill me if he knows that I told you this.”

“I don’t understand, tell me what?”

But the other didn’t reply, he was just mumbling nonsense to himself swinging a little. Cristiano really didn’t catch what the other said of being something strange but he looked so miserable that felt the urge to enclose him with a blanket and give him hot chocolate. Or, at least, to try to cheer him up in someway.

“Ok, calm down. What about if I am telling you something about me? Would you feel better?”

Lionel for the first time rose his sight and looked at him directly in the eyes, and for the look he gave Cristiano could guess he had thick his curiosity.

Cristiano stripped some grass, flattering. He could not properly understand why he should say that to him. He never admitted that with anyone of his teammates. Never even with his friends, as scared as he was. There were no good reason why he should say that to his nemesis a part… a part the fact that he really needed to talk about this with someone, that maybe he could be easier with someone he didn’t really know, because he was not going on destroying the picture of Cristiano that the other had in his mind. And also… Cristiano couldn’t see any danger coming from the little guy next to him. On a professional level he could be a pain in the ass, but on a personal level? After what he told him? Cristiano couldn’t really see Lionel using a confidence as a gossip weapon to harm people.

“What I am saying must remain here, ok? I am basically giving my life in your hand now, and I should be a little crazy to do this, but I want to trust you. Can I trust you?”

Lionel nodded solemnly and Cristiano felt something melting inside. Ok, maybe there is another reason why he wanted to tell him this, but he wouldn’t dare to admit this even in his deepest thought.

“Alright. I am… I am not… properly straight?”

Lionel just frowned, and it was obvious that he hadn’t understood.

“I am… preferring men?

Same expression.

“Over women?”

No signal.

“Oh my God! I am gay!”

But Lionel still didn’t change the expression “I don’t understand”

“What? Should I make you drawings?” Now he was openly exasperated.

“Why is that a problem?” And Cristiano stood astonished. That was the cutest and at the same time the most stupid reply he could ever think of receiving. But what really distressed Cristiano was the cutest part. He always had had a sweet tooth for the cuties, and he was already having his problems to manage having someone as Kakà as a teammate and he really, really didn’t need to mess up with his little Argentinian enemy. But still…  
“Why?! Have you ever been in the dressing rooms?” he asked harshly but just while he was saying the words he remembered that Lionel just told him that he never spoke in the dressing room.

“Ok, have you ever heard of Justin Fashnau?”

Lionel shook his head, quietly.

“He was the first known professional gay football player. He was literally disavowed both by his family and the football world. He escaped in the States and there he was victim of a false accuse of sexual assault from a boy, and, eventually, he committed suicide”

“Oh my God, that’s horrible!”

“Yeah” Cristiano sighed. “And believe me, things are not really better now. It sucks. Not being able of having a relationship, being scared of what people can guess”

“So, you never had a relationship? But you are so beautiful!” Lionel looked at him in disbelief. 

Cristiano was taken a little off guard. Definitely that was not the first time someone told him that he was beautiful, but Lionel had that way of telling it not as a flirting attempt, but as a statement, as a bare observation of reality. 

“Well it is not that I am a virgin. - He scuffed a little- I am having fake girlfriends, and I am having my fun around, with people that I don’t really known and that don’t know me.” 

“You were right. We really are different. I cannot see the point of being attracted by men or women. I like someone if they are attractive and interesting and I feel comfortable with them. But I could never stand the idea of only been touched by someone just for being touched.”

“Hang on a second. What do you mean with 'I cannot see the point of men or women?'” And for a second, just for a second he felt hope. No, that was bad, he just told how it was impossible for him to hang out with someone who he knows, forget about another football player. But. 

Lionel was really cute as a hell, and Cristiano was so tired of managing secret little crushes for nice teammates without any kind of satisfaction and it would be so nice if just once he could do something with someone that he could really actually like. If there could be something sweet in his life, something that may happen on the grass of a nice autumn garden instead of a load, stinky gay disco.

Lionel shrugged ad his cheeks took some colour. “There are people with whom I feel comfortable with and I would like to stay with them. And I don’t care if they are… I guess I don’t care so much about being boys or girls? It’s not so important?”

“Ok, but spending time with someone is different from… I don’t know, wanting to kiss them. Do you want to kiss them?”

And now Lionel was completely bright pink, unable to watch Cristiano anymore. Cristiano decided that that evening was being really crazy and, at the end, he wanted to ride the craziness. Moreover, there was that comment about his beauty… He took courage to reach out and touch his head.

“Are you feeling comfortable now? With me?”

The light nod was almost imperceptible. “But you said you don’t want to do anything with people that you know.”

“I was thinking more about my teammates. You are not my teammate.” He stated. He hadn’t moved his hand away but neither Lionel has moved his head.

“I know! You preferred Real Madrid over Barça,” he pouted.

“I choose the best.” 

But Lionel didn’t seem to take the subtle and narrow dangerously his eyes. _Never offend Barça in front of Lionel Messi._

Cristiano just smiled and started to play with his hair. “You haven’t replied. Are you feeling comfortable with me?”

This time the nod was more determined and he even managed to look him in the eyes.

Cristiano get closer, brushing his lips against his mouth, his cheeks. “Still comfortable?”

Another nod.

And then Cristiano moved closer and closer, giving the other all the time of the world to move away, but he didn’t, and finally Cris cover the distance between them and kissed him softly. Lionel was tense at first but he soon relaxed in his arms with a sigh and Cristiano just wanted to shout out his happiness. 

Until, after few seconds Lionel literally jumped away. And Cristiano risked a heart attack

“Oh, God!”

“What?!… I though… I should have misunderstood…”

“I threw up like 20 minutes ago. This is awful!”

It took several moments to Cristiano to realise what the hell the other was trying to tell him and then he stood astonished, undecided if he wanted more to laugh, split, or curse Lionel. “I completely forgot about this. I would have never noticed if you hadn’t reminded me! Now it’s gross”

“I am sorry. Oh my God I ruined everything, didn’t I? It’s always like this, I am so sorry.”

He looked at him helplessly and Cristiano though again about blankets and hot chocolate and marshmallows. _This guy could be my ruin_ \- he tough- _I could forgive everything in front of those puppy eyes._

“Ok, ok, let’s do this. We are going back in the house –honestly it is also starting to freeze here. You can wash your mouth or even drink something and then you can forget about your vomit. You have me and I have you, I am sure that together we can face more than 3 people, even drunk. We could even have some fun.”

Lionel stared fascinated by the confident smile of Cristiano and decided that yes, he may trust him on this, and he could retry to enter in the house, with him, and everything will be alright.

But something went wrong with the plan since at the end they didn’t have to face many people. Lionel went to a bathroom of the house to wash his teeth and Cristiano followed him. And they ended up kissing and kissing. Cristiano asked him if he wanted to go home with him but Lionel declined, saying he had promised to stay at Agüero’s. For Cristiano that was fair enough: still, when he went back home he had this stupid, wide smile that didn’t want to fade away.


	2. Stairway to Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Dinho is angry with Leo, and Leo doesn't understand why, but is ready to apologise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all: thank you very much for reading, for the comments and kudos ^///^  
> Here we are with the second part. Jump back in the past. Should be around the end of 2006/beginning of 2007.  
> These flashbacks are not so necessary porn. Non-Con. You could skip them if you are uncomfortable with the theme.  
> Again: I didn't mean to offend anybody. No Leo has been harmed. No Dinho/Deco or Sylvy are abusive assholes.

Leo was not having a bad life. He could play football and he was doing it great. Apparently he was good enough to managing of living of playing football and that was great. 

Not all the people could be able to live of their passions. Leo’s own brother couldn’t, for instance, and all because of a single stupid accident. So, yeah, Lionel considered himself one of the lucky guys, but that didn’t mean that he hadn’t his problems. 

Those weren’t the growing issues, as people would tend to believe. This was not a real problem: there were the injections, which were annoying, but not so much more than that. Well, to be cured he had to leave Argentina, but, to be honest, if he wanted to be a great football player, sooner or later he would leave Argentina in any case. 

Living out of Argentina, that sucked. He missed everything so much: he missed his house, his streets, the food, the smells, and his family, and his mum. And that is connected with the real problem of Lionel: people. 

Lionel could never properly understood people. He didn’t understand their behaviour, not their jokes, their gestures. He could not understand what to say to someone, like how it was possible that people spend together so much time and have something to say, something to do to actually enjoying the simple fact of being together. 

The worst thing was that Lionel did not dislike people. It was quite the opposite: he would have loved to be like the others and be perfectly confortable with other people around. He would have loved to be loved. But the problem was that he didn’t know how to approach the others and for his entire life it was like being scattered in a different planet, with a different language, and without a dictionary. Or, better, a user manual. 

Fortunately, there were exceptions. Like his family –and that’s why it hurt so much, being scattered apart- and also people that had known for long time, and had learnt how to cope with his weirdness, like his old teammates, and the other students at La Masia. 

Lionel had always had the doubt that those people were indulgent with him because he was good with football, but that was fair enough. They were nice and friendly and Leo loved that. Some of them, like Pique, used also to hug him a lot and cuddle him and Leo really, really loved that. 

But, another downside of football, a part from the fact that it had tore him out of Argentina, was that the better he was, the more often he was changing teams, moving quickly from the junior teams to the B team and even the major team. 

And now he was there. With people that were all older than him, with much more experience, and also people from many different countries and even different languages. For a person like Lionel, being with those strangers was really difficult. 

Again, he could score, but the time in the dressing room or during trainings he tended to be alone, enclosed in his personal universe and watching the others having fun, envying them so badly but not daring to reach out them. 

So when Ronaldinho approached him Lionel was the happiest guy in the world. 

Dinho was not only a great football player (the greatest, in Leo’s opinion), and could do magic with the ball, but it was also a generous and very kind man.  
“Be prepared, I’ll let you score” he had told him the first times he was playing, and then, yes, he gave him such wonderful passages, that scoring was so easy and suddenly half of the tension of being in the first squad went away. 

“Come with me, let’s have some fun” he had told him later, and he introduced him to the group of Brazilians: he, and Deco and Sylvinho and eventually Lionel find his little place he belonged to in the first team. And he can finally share at least some of his feelings of being a foreigner and being so homesick. They remind him of South America.

The turning point was the World Cup of 2006. Ronaldinho went to Germany sure that the cup will be his again. Brazil was a very strong team, the favourite one, and they ended up eliminated in the quarter-finals. Dinho made no goal, and only one assist.

Dinho was no more the same since then and even Leo, with his issue in catching people emotions and thought, even he could see how annoyed and sad he was. He was also much more irritable and often angry against Leo. But then, again, Leo was quite used to annoyed people without properly catching how, so he tolerated Dinho’s bad mood.

There was one game when everything went wrong. The result was still blocked at null-null at the 70 minute, and they really needed that victory. There were a couple of occasions. In the first time Dinho gave Leo the ball and he returned in it in a triangulation that they had tried so many times… but Dinho wasn’t where it was supposed to be, and the ball was gone. At the beginning of the second half, Deco passed to Leo. He dribbled a couple of defenders and finally crossed the ball to… nobody. Dinho was several metres beyond.

“What the hell are you doing?” Ronaldinho hissed

“You used to run faster.” 

“What?! Now this is my fault? Fuck off, kiddo!”

Lionel was genuinely confused. He didn’t want to blame anyone, it was just a simple, neutral statement: he was asked and he answered. He couldn’t understand why Dinho replied so angrily, and why Deco was staring at him with big eyes, in disbelief. 

In any case, he couldn’t focus on the offended sensibility of Ronaldinho now, there was a game to win. 

The next time he had the ball on his feet he took the risk. He didn’t want to try to pass again the ball to his moody friend, and tried one of his diagonal in the area. 

He knows he shouldn’t: it was not the most effective play, and the risk of loosing the ball was very high. But he didn’t see alternatives. 

He started the acceleration simply leaving one opponent behind, then he made a semi-rotation on himself, destabilizing the two defenders that were trying to block his path. He was already in the small area, and the porter exited. Lionel jerked on the right, and with hi left feet lift the ball over the porter, in the up-left angle of the net, impossible to catch for anyone. A beautiful, important goal, and Lionel was happy. 

Still, he missed the usual hug of Ronaldinho.

 ****

They had this habit in those days: having a party at the house of Dinho for celebrating each of their victories. It could have been for all the team, or only for the close circle of the South Americans. That day was not an exception, although the bad mood of Dinho. It was a small party: the only guests were Sylvinho, Deco and, of course, Lionel.

Usually those were the parties that Leo loved mostly, because there were only his closest friends. And usually, when he scored a goal, all the people around were celebrating him. But not that evening. 

Anyone seemed to do their best to avoiding Leo and the thing was even more obvious, given that there were only the four of them. Dinho, was particularly grumpy, and even Leo manage to notice that he may be angry with him. But what he couldn’t do was recalling why. He even scored! He made Barça win!

He tried to ask Sylvinho, once they were alone in the kitchen, taking something to drink.

“You know, Leo –he replied- you _are_ good, we already get it. But maybe you should not be so arrogant about it”

Leo didn’t understand. All the people have always told him that he was very humble. He didn’t really know if it appeared humble or arrogant, but one thing he knew for sure: he didn’t change his behaviour, so what Sylvy was telling him had no sense. But then, on the other hand, if all of his friends were angry with him he should have done something wrong.

“And then, this comment about his speed! How rude it was!”

“But I didn’t mean to be rude: he asked me why my passages were inaccurate and that was the reason!”

“Leo, you know how he feels after the World Cup and how much he needs to score. He was the one that mostly believed in you when you moved to the first squad and the one that made you score so many goals. This is not the way of paying back. You should go and apologise.”

So Lionel tried to do what he was suggested. He brought a Margarita to Dinho and said sorry.

“For what?” he asked coldly.

Well, that was the difficult question, because Leo hadn’t properly understood what he did wrong, but if he had caught the speech of Sylvy, then… “Because I didn’t make you score.”

“What?! Now you think that I need _you_ to score?! Who the hell you think you are? Fuck off kiddo! Just fuck off!”

Deco, sitting next to him to him started to laugh and Lionel could not see why because now Dinho seemed to be even angrier. Lionel eyed at Silvy looking for help but he was just shaking his head. Now Leo was really starting to panic. 

“No! No, I didn’t mean that! I am sorry!”

“For what?” he asked again and Lionel felt tears stinging the corner of his eyes.

“I don’t know! I didn’t want to make you angry! I don’t want to make you angry! I am sorry for whatever I did and I just… I want to fix it. Please! I am sorry”

Deco, was still grinning at him and Leo hated the sound so much. Hated every distraction, because there was nothing to laughing at and he desperately wanted his Dinho back and whatever he was trying was only making it worse.

Dinho tilted his head licking his lips. “Maybe after all you could make this evening a little more pleasant, don’t you?

“Dinho – Deco intervened- I don’t think…” but the other interrupted him with a gesture of his hand. 

“Leo, would you do this for me?”

Leo didn’t properly understood what he wanted from him, but he nodded in any case. He desperately wanted his Dinho back and whatever he has tried to that moment had only made things worse.

“What can I do?” he asked

Dinho didn’t reply, but he smiled mischievously as he reached his own trousers.

Leo stared with eyes wide opened as he unzip the trousers and free his soft cock.

“You are giving me hard time, you can repay that with some minutes of joy, can’t you?” 

Leo raised his head to face him, frowning. “What do you mean?”

Dinho licked his lips, as he grabbed Leo’s hand and led it on his cock.

“Come on, Leo give this old man a little good time, nh?”

He covered the back of Leo’s hand with his own for few seconds and led it up and down, caressing it with his thumbs, giving some pressure. 

“You want me… to…”

“Yes, Leo, I want a hand job! Jeez, sometimes you _are_ slow” 

“I am sorry…” he mumbled. He was watching engaged his own pale hand over the reddish cock and the sight was so strange. Yes, he had jerked off, but he had never looked at himself. And the sight of his hand on another’s cock was so weird. But, again, if this may help to fix things… He tentatively started to move. It was soft and velvet, but he could feel the blood pulsing beneath the skin.

“He is doing it!” Deco murmured at his sight

“Shush!”

Leo raised his head, watching alternatively Deco and Dinho “Am I doing something wrong?”

Dinho smiled at him –finally, a smile! – as he covered his shoulders with an arm, pulling him closer. “You are doing great Leo. Really great.”  
“Ok…” Leo stared down and he tentatively moved again. Dinho’s cock was showing some interest under his touch. 

“Now grab it, Leo” His voice was now deep and hoarse, close to Leo hear, and his hips were slightly rotating.

Leo sighed. He wasn’t really enjoying the situation, but again, in general it is not that he was enjoying, or even properly understanding most of the situation that “normal” people find pleasant. And if that were the only way to calm down Dinho, he would go for it. He covered the shaft with sweaty hand and moved it for its entire length.

“Oh, yes, here is my good boy” 

Leo scrolled his hand slowly, up and down. The skin under his fingers was velvet and burning hot, and he could feel it arising in response of his stimulation.

“My good boy. My little good boy” Ronnie leaned back to the seatback of the couch, and it was at that moment that saw that Deco was watching eagerly to every movement of Leo, licking his lips. And then he noticed the movement: he was jerking off, as well.

Suddenly Leo felt sick. He looked around, looking for Sylvy and he spotted him leaning on the wall staring intensively. Leo could not understand what he was thinking –not that he had never been able to read people facial expression, in any case - but was afraid that he was disapproving what he was doing. 

But then, again, there was the demanding voice of Dinho.

“Don’t slow down now, Leo, focus!” he commanded “Look at me, look at what you are doing to me, at how good you are” He had started to pushing his hips up and he can feel his cock pulsing in his hand.

“Look!” and he looked. It was now big, and angrily red, risen in demand, and his head was lucid in precome. 

“Oh, yes, Leo, this is the effect you have on people” Deco told and Leo rose his head again. Deco was now standing in front of him and it was so close that was almost over him. His cock was only few centimetres from Leo’s face. And it was equally erected, red and leaking.

“Kiss it!” he demanded and Dinho commented with a raspy “Yes!”

Leo hesitated. That was something really new for him. And then, why Deco? Was he too angry with him? But, again, his thoughts were interrupted by Dinho.

“Leo, for God sake, do you have to make everything so difficult?”

Dinho was angry again, and Leo felt as a failure. So he sigh, and he tentatively cover with his mouth the head of Deco’s dick. The combination of hot and salty tasted strange in his mouth and he didn’t really know what to do. He tried to suck a little, and to give few licks. His brain was blank as he stared at the swaying groin of Deco.

“Oh yes. Here we are what another natural talent of our little Leo.” Deco caressed his head and Leo thought that like he was doing right, after all… 

“Yes… now let me…” Leo felt Dinho move away his hand and then taking both of his hand and join them cupping them with the palms up.

The action distracted Leo and, also, Deco made some sharper movement, so his cock slips from his mouth. 

He took the occasion to look at what Dinho was doing and he saw that he was now frankly stroking himself moaning softly as he was biting his lower lip. With the other hand he was still grabbing Leo’s hand to the point of giving him some pain.

“Oh, yes, that’s a good idea” Deco commented and Leo was confused and uncomfortable because he had no clue of what that idea was and he doesn’t like when he does not know what is happening. But he hadn’t time to panic, because after some moments everything was clear, when Dihno came with a chock and split his semen in Leo’s cupped hands.

Leo flinched but Dinho was still grabbing him and maintained him in position. It was gloppy and disgusting and Leo didn’t really want to have that thing on his hands. 

Next to him Deco was still jerking off and Leo though he was also sick of listening to moans and to slapping penises.

“Is it… are you ok… with me? Now?” he dared to ask.

Dinho smiled mischievously and looked at Deco “Just a moment”

“Oh, yes, here I am, here… “ he groaned and then he too split his semen in Leo's hand, before crouching in front of him, breathing heavily.

“Lick it” Dinho ordered then. Leo was about to denying, that was really, really disgusting, but then remembered that only some moments ago he was scolded because he was making things difficult and he really wanted to finally please Dinho and get over that horrible night.

So he neared the hands to the mouth: the smell was almost making him throw, but he started to lick anyway. He looked at Dinho and he was released when he saw him smiling, but than the vision was blurred and Leo realised that he was crying. But he went on slurping: Leo was never a surrender, and eventually the sticky _thing_ finished and he was savouring the comfortably savour of his own skin. 

The smile of Dinho enlarged as he hugged him and made he rest his head on his waist. Leo had wanted to cover the savour in his mouth with something; possibly something strong, and he grab the Margarita. But Dinho was smoothing his back and also Deco was caressing his hair and Leo was happy, or so he wanted to convince himself. Dinho was finally happy again, so everything was alright. 

Then Leo caught the sight of Sylvy, still lying on the wall, still watching them. Had he watched everything? What was he thinking? But eventually Leo decided he didn’t care, at the moment. Dinho was happy and that was the only thing that matter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again: I am not a native speaker, I will be very happy if you make me notice my mistakes. ~~One of the reasons why I am writing a fic is to improve my English~~


	3. What's next? A call, a date.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Cris finds that talking to Leo could be hard. Doing something else, harder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading, commenting and leaving kudos *_*  
> Once again, sorry for the mistakes, please let me know if you notice them :)

Cristiano had only one little worry about what happened. You know how things are going: the cool guy, with the insecure, weirdo one: he was asking himself if he should be prepared to received one hundred calls of an overenthusiastic Leo. But he was wrong. The day after he hadn’t received any calls. Neither the next one, and the further next. Or the week after. After a couple of weeks, Cristiano decided to call.

“Hey, how are you?”

“Good.”

The tone was quite brutal and Cristiano was a little off-taken “So…eh… Nice match last day. You really want to make my life difficult.”

“Thanks. No. I just want to play good for the team.”

“Lionel, relax! You are speaking to me, it’s not an interview.”

“Nh. What do you want?”

Cristiano looked at the telephone in disbelief. That little ass-hole! “Just wanted to let you know that I will be in Barcelona on Wednesday and wanted to ask if you want to hang out, but apparently it’s not the case.”

“No. I’d love to.” But the tone was the same. Robotic. 

“Alright, I’ll let you know when I will finish with my duties.” He cut off annoyed.

“Ok.”

There was not anything more to say and the conversation was already far too awkward, so Cristiano just said goodbye and hanged up.

Ok, that was the weirdest call he ever had and he was not so sure anymore that he wanted to see Leo again.

But that evening Cristiano received an email

“Dear Cristiano,

I am very sorry if I sounded strange at the telephone. I really, really hate to speak at the telephone and especially if I didn’t expect the call. Worse if the call was also from _someone_ I didn’t expect. But I was glad that you called me! And I am really happy to meet you again! It was nice from you to think of me when you are coming in Barcelona. Oh! And I was so rude that I didn’t even ask you how are you. So, how are you? You are playing greatly, as well. I am looking forward to see you again.  
Love,

Lionel”

Cristiano smiled dumbly at the screen. Alright, no more phone-calls. But the mail was actually nice, and the discomfort he felt after the call disappeared. He was still smiling when he answered the email.

***

It was a date and Cristiano had never had a proper date. He had always had hot burning, quick meetings that last no more than the time of a night.

So, yeah, it was a date, but Cristiano was not really nervous about it, rather amused about the entire situation. He dating someone, he dating a football player, he dating Lionel Messi. He was supposed to hate him and he ended up being his first date. 

But Cristiano openly laughed when they finally met. The commitment of Cristiano in Barcelona was modelling and he went out perfectly dressed: dark denim trousers, perfectly cut over his figure, burgundy skirt, black elegant jacket, and Italian shoes. And, of course, hair perfectly jelled. Leo… let’s say that Leo had a complicate relationship with the comb. He was wearing wore out jeans, a pair of sneakers, and he was nervously hiding his hands in a gigantic hoodie. 

“I think we should have set down a dressing code,” Cris grinned.

Leo was swinging uncomfortably.“I am sorry”

“Nothing to be sorry about. You are actually cute.” He ruffled his hair. It couldn’t do any damage, in any case.

Deciding what to do was a little harder. In Leo’s house there was his father (“Like, seriously? Still living with your father?!” “Where he should go? Back to Argentina?” “Dunno. Another flat? Jeez, I am living alone since I was seventeen.” The end of the discussion was a stubborn silence from Leo). 

Cristiano, on the other hand, was obsessed by the idea of not being seen around hanging out with Leo.

At the end, they decided to wander around the city on the Audi A8 rented by Cristiano in Barcelona.

Cristiano was talking about the day, and about the nice suits that they created for him, and how he preferred a brand to another. Leo only replied with monosyllables a couple of times.

“I am bored.” He stated, finally

Cristiano was caught off guard and looked at him with wide eyes “Excuse me?”

“I am bored –Leo repeated – I don’t care about fashion.”

“Alright… what do you want to talk about, then?” 

Leo shrugged bowing his head “Don’t know…”

Cristiano felt like he should be offended, but the situation was so absurd that he couldn’t really be angry. And, in any case, Leo seemed like he was regretting what he said, because now they were in an awkward silence and he should be the one in charge to break it since he was the one who create it.

At the end, he decided to help him, breaking the silence “Ok, if you could have something, here and now, what would you like?”

“My family.” He replied, this time without any hesitation.

Cristiano asked about it, if he has any brothers and sisters, and other little details, but in reality Lionel didn’t need so much input: he started a monologue about his family of some minutes, and this was quite a record of talking for him.

“You seem to have a really nice family.” Cristiano commented at the end, trying to hide the sense of bitter envy that he was having. But Lionel seemed to not notice it.

“It is. I really miss them a lot.”

“Do you ever regret leaving them for football?”

Lionel spent some time just looking in front of him, without seeing anything. “When I came here… –he replied at the end, the voice almost a whisper – I blame… not football, never football. But I wanted to go on playing in Argentina, playing for Newell, at least a little bit more… But thing went as they went, and I am happy at Barcelona now” he shrugged.

“And you? Did you miss your family when you went in England?”

Cristiano gripped harder the wheel. “My situation was more… complicated.”

“Oh! It’s because of your father?”

“Merciless straight to the point, nh?” he chocked

“Sorry...” his face clouded.

Cristiano sighed. “But yes, I was… full of rage, I think. I hate lose. And I could make football to work, at least. I would have given everything for something to work.” Cristiano doubted that his words have any sense, but Leo was staring at him very focused. 

“I hate situations that I can’t control, as well.”

And this was so _exactly_ the point that Cristiano almost felt the urge to stop the car and hug him. He smiled, instead, and went on driving out of the city, to the surrounding hills. 

 

***

They were leaning on the trunk of the car, watching at the amazing sight of the city and the sea at the sunset.

“You know? _This_ is something I really missed when I left for Manchester. I can’t believe that now I am living in the middle of a desert. People who aren’t born close to the sea can’t understand how much you can miss it”

“We have a river.” Lionel pouted, making Cristiano to chuckle.

“Are you really comparing the sea… no, wait, the ocean in my case, to a river?”

“I like watching the water flowing.” he insisted.

“Yeah, ok, but you cannot see the horizon in a river. You don’t smell the iodine, you cannot listen to the waves during winter storms.”

“I like the smell of my country.” He pouted further.

Cristiano grabbed his hand “I guess you are right. Everyone loves the smell of his own home country.” 

He could feel Lionel relaxing at the touch and he leaned a little further, so that their body were barely touching.

Cristiano wondered if he might move to some nice action, instead of insist on irritating talks. He lifted and semi-turn to face Leo, and palmed his hips, moving closer. Leo was so small under his hands, and still so sturdy. Cristiano couldn’t help but thinking about how handy he should be.

He moved closer mouthing his hair, and then down, breathing on his skin

“Lionel?” he murmured his name as asking for permission, but he didn’t wait for a reply.

The air of Barcelona was warm but Leo’s lips were cold under Cristiano mouth. He gave himself all the time to nudge on them, giving small little kisses, pecking the corners of his mouth as he was smiling, gently sucking his lower lips. 

Cristiano moved back a little, just to enjoy the sight of Lionel with his eyelashes lowered, his half-open mouth, his cheeks bright pink. Cristiano felt very, stupidly, happy. 

Eventually Lionel opened his eyes and tilted his head questioning. 

Cristiano just smiled and reached again to his mouth, this time a little more demanding. He cupped the back of Leo’s head and wrapped him with the other arm to pull him closer. 

Cristiano angled his head and licked his lips pressing gently but firmly to be let in. Eventually Lionel half-opened his mouth and Cristiano could taste his savour, indulging in his warmth. 

Lionel moaned and that was for Cristiano a sort of signal, and he let go well-oiled habits. He was now rubbing against him and placed a thigh against his groin to give him some pressure. Leo, in response, crossed the arms over Cris neck, to maintain balance.

“Cris…”

He didn’t really pay attention, very intended, as he was to suck the tender skin of his neck, just where the jugular vein was pulsing.

“Nh?” he grabbed his hips and lifted him to make him seat on the trunk. _Yes, so handy._

“Cris, I…oh!” Leo shivered when Cristiano ran his cold hands under his hoodie. 

“Sorry” he smiled on his lips before kissing him again as running the hand on his stomach, his waist. He could feel his toned muscles under such a silky skin and moaned with pleasure. He didn’t break the kiss as he started to gently push down… and almost fell on the trunk. 

Leo had literally sprung back until he was stuck against the windscreen, staring at him with wide eyes.

Cristiano tried to calm down the mixture of frustration and concerning that was feeling. He didn’t think he had done something bad but it was pretty obvious that Leo had a different opinion.

“Ehi! Careful! This is not even my car!” Cristiano smiled desperately trying to downplay and reached out with the palm of his hand upwardly.

Leo considered the offer for a few seconds, before grabbing the hand, dropping off the car. Cris kissed his hand to calm him down, but Lionel was still fixing his feet, slightly swinging, in that way that -Cristiano had learnt- indicated that he was embarrassed or uncomfortable. _Say something, say whatever you could say and stop this awkward moment._

“So…err… I am thirsty. Maybe we could find a cafeteria and grab something to drink?”

“I… I think I’ d rather go home.”

“Oh. Ok…”

That was not ok for Cristiano. It was still early and who knew when he could meet him again. _If_ Leo wanted to meet him again after what happened – which, to be honest, Cristiano couldn’t properly frame.

They were silent in the car and Cristiano cast some glances at him. Sometimes Leo reminded him a doll. Well, not literally, with porcelain skin and blond curly rolls, but in his way of staying very still and looking in front of him blankly for such a long time. Cristiano could have never even conceived to stay still for more than a few seconds, even at school, with all the problems that that had created.

Eventually Cristiano reached for his tight and just let his hand to lie there, to give some warm. Leo didn’t move it away, which, for Cristiano, was a win.

When the car stopped there was still an awkward silence. Cristiano was becoming an expertise in trying to talk in uncomfortable situations.

“So, ehm, do you want to hang out with me again, one of this days?”

“Yes! But…you?

“Of course I want! My plane is early tomorrow, but…”

“In two weeks I’ll be in Madrid for a commercial. Maybe then?”

“Yeah, that’s great!”

Cris openly grinned as Leo smiled shyly.

“And…Leo?”

Lionel stared fixedly waiting for him to continue.

“I get that you hate phone calls but perhaps, if you want, we could Skype?”

“Yes! I love Skype, I use to do it with my family in Argentina”

“Great! We have a deal then!”

But Leo had started to move again uncomfortably. 

“What?”

“Can… Could you give me at least two hours of notice before? Like text me?”

“Ok,” Cristiano chuckled softly “I’ll do it.”

Leo nodded satisfied and then leaned to kiss him.

Cristiano almost twitched at the unexpected contact but he smiled over his lips, happily surprised. He didn’t expect it after what happened on the trunk, and he didn’t want to scare Leo again, so he let Leo to lead the kiss, that was so tentatively and sweet, and Cristiano couldn’t help running a hand through his hair _Stay with me. Stay with me a little longer. Stay with me all nigh long._

Eventually Leo broke the kiss and bit his own lower lip, evidently embarrassed. But before Cristiano could say anything, Leo said goodbye and rushed off the car. 

Cristiano couldn’t do anything but watching Leo walking away form him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Word of Maradona: “It's harder to get Messi on the phone than to interview God. ”


	4. All the Things come in Threes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Lionel realises why Sylvynho seemed so upset. It is not what he has thought. Quite the opposite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all of you who are reading, commenting and leaving kudos. I am flattered.

After that night things with Dinho were back to a semi-normality. He was hugging Lionel again, and that was good. Even though, the hugs had became more… intimate, in a way. Instead of big, powerful hugs, there were more caresses, a lingering on the Leo’s base of the back, or waste. And this not only by Dinho, but also by Deco, who was also often grinning widely to Leo, in a way that made Leo uncomfortable.

Sylvino, on the other hand, was barely speaking to Leo. Lionel thought that he was distraught by what he had seen, and he could not blame him. He, himself, was quite shaken about what he did. So, Leo simply respected his will of not dealing with him.

Until, one day, Sylvy approached him and asked him if he could stay a little longer after the training.

They were sitting on the bench of the dressing room. All the others were already gone, after the shower, and the air was dense for the humidity.

Lionel was nervously staring at his own feet, waiting for the other to say something.

“I thought we were friends, Leo”

“We are friends! I mean… _I_ would love to be your friend.”

“yeah, I guess so… But what you did with Dinho and Deco that night…”

Of course was that. “You were the one who told me to be kind with Dinho” Leo mumbled defensely. He rose the legs on the bench and started to curling up. He knew it was wrong, they told him that he should not assume closed position or curl in front of the others, but he felt like he couldn’t help doing it.

He felt so confused. He trusted Dinho, Deco and Sylvy more than anyone else. They showed him how to leave in a world of adult men. They accepted him no matter what. So it was natural for him to do what they told to do. And Silvy _had told_ him to indulge Dinho. But, apparently, he still did something wrong and now Sylvy was angry.

“Yes, but that was something more, Leo. That was a real proof of affection.”

Right now Lionel had lost Sylvy. Was that the problem? And where was the problem? “But I do care for Dinho!” That was for certain.

“And Deco…”

“And Deco, of course!”

“And not me.”

Lionel stared at him without understanding. “You… No, of course I care of you as well!”

Sylvy lowered his sight from Leo’s eyes to his mouth. “How much? Would you give me a proof, as well?” Syvlynho grabbed his chin and pass a thumb over his lips. 

Leo instinctively moved away. “See? You are avoiding me.”

“No, that’s not true, it’s just…” Why everybody needed to be so touchy, lately?

“What you did to Deco with that mouth. And you can’t bear even a touch from me?”

“No, but…”

“Then…”  
The pressure of Sylvy on his lips was more insistent until he introduced a thumb in the entrance. 

Leo looked at him questioning and he felt his cheeks reddening at the way in which Silvy was staring at his mouth. 

He moved the finger on his tongue and Lionel started to lick, as a reflex.

“Oh, yes, Leo, like this…” Silvy rose in front of him and dropped the towel. He was cupping his face with both of the hands, still caressing his lips with a thumb.

“What you did for Deco. Would you do it for me?” 

Leo could see what was happening, he could understand the point of Sylvy, of not being left behind, but still…

He couldn’t really think about that, because Sylvy had grabbed his own cock and directed it to nudge Leo’s mouth with the head. At least Sylvy smelled bath gel and it was better than Deco. Lionel tentatively gave some small little licks to the head, as he did for Deco.

“Good. That’s good! I want… oh….” Sylvy cupped the back of his head as he pushed ahead. 

Lionel peered at him from bottom-up. “What?” He asked with little voice.

“All. Lick it all.”

Lionel hesitated glancing Sylvy’s face and his dick.

“Leo!” The tone was suddenly urgent and Lionel flinched. He so doesn’t want to make Sylvy sad, or disappointed. Therefore, he closed his eyes and bow down. He tentatively touched the base of the cock with the point of his tongue and Syvly made a low moan. And then he started to slide the tongue trough all the length over and over again. At each lapping the cock was rising bigger and redder and the taste of bathroom gel was soon substituted by the salty savour of sweat.

“Lionel. Lionel, I want you to take it”

Lionel lift his face and grabbed the cock, starting a hand job, but Sylvy grasped his wrist.

“With the mouth, Leo! I want you… I want…” Sylvy pressed the hands on the sides of Leo’s face. “Open up you mouth, Leo. And curved your lips over your teeth, like this.”

Lionel obeyed as he clanged the bench hard. Silvy pushed inside him and Leo startled. He was big, really big and he had to thrust opened his mouth to the point of feeling pain at the jaws. He whined but Sylvy didn’t notice or didn’t care: he blocked his head and moved back and forward, over and over.

“Come on Leo, suck it.” Lionel tried. But then he produced saliva and he needed to swallow and his reflex was closing the mouth to do it. But, of course, he couldn’t. So he was now having his mouth full of saliva and of… well, Sylvy, who was pushing deeper. He panicked as he felt the gag reflex.

“Leo! Stay still!” Sylvy fight to keep him blocked but Leo was now too agitated and in the movement his lips slipped uncovering the teeth.

“Leo!” Finally Silvynho went out with a frustrated grunt. “It’s impossible like this.”

Leo coughed a couple of time taking his breath. He felt like vomiting and his jaw was aching. He covered his mouth very focused on inspiring oxygen and not throwing up, so he didn’t pay so much attention to Silvy until he felt him grab him and turning him against the wall.

“What…” Before Leo could realise what was happening, Silvy had pulled away his bathrobe in a single, rushed gesture. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Shush.” Silvinho was blocking him with the weight of his body, pushing his shoulder against Leo’s back. He shushed Leo while he was doing _something_ that Leo didn’t catch until he felt something slimy penetrating. 

Leo almost jumped away shouting, more for the surprise than for an actual pain. But there was the wall in front of him so he couldn’t go far away in any case.

“Not exactly what I had in mind, but yeah…” Silvy commented as he pushed a forearm against the base of Leo’s neck, to maintain him still.

Leo took some seconds to process that that thing that was now moving into his ass was a finger. All was happening so quickly, after few pushes the finger was gone, but soon after Leo felt that this time Silvinho pushed two fingers inside him. This time Leo shouted out of pain.

“Stop whining, Leo, I am doing this to make it actually better for you” and he started to open the fingers, scissoring.

But he didn’t take too long to extract them and Leo felt some noise behind him.

“Please!” Leo was trembling as he felt something burning brushing his arse, indulging at the entrance. He wasn’t ready for this, he didn’t even imagine that this could happen.

“Come on Leo” Silvy rasped “cant’t you even doing this for me? You don’t have to do anything, just stay still, like this.”

Leo felt Silvinho grabbing his cheeks and pushing into him. Leo screamed and then stayed very still holding his breath. It was like having a white-hot dagger inside. He could feel Silvy screwing and pushing deeper and deeper and Leo couldn’t believe that this was happening for real. 

Lionel didn’t want to think. He just need to focus on breathing, take air and _don’t think._ But he was not so good to alienate himself to not feel Silvynho pumping into him. It was so burning and everything was just troubling him. He was sick of his own hair that were tickling his face with the movement, the savour in his mouth, the painful pressure of Silvy’s grab on his arms, the cold, hard tiles that were scratching his knees and above all Silvy’s grunts, and his own whines, that he couldn’t help to make at each thrust.

For Leo this was going on forever and he was wondering how much Silvy does need to… finish. 

Silvinho wrapped an arm under Leo’s stomach and pushed him closer. His movement were now more erratic and rapid and Leo’s brow was brushing against the tiles. Finally, Silvy grabbed his hips and shoved violently into him with his entire length one, two, three times, screaming at release. He crossed his arms around Leo’s chest and quivered again panting heavily for few further moments as he was letting go the last spurts.

“Oh, my good boy! My good little boy!” He panted as he pulled out turning Leo in his embrace. He kissed his forehead and wiped away some tears with his thumbs.

Lionel just stayed still. He didn’t feel like there was anything to say. He just wanted to go home, sleep, sleep forever and _don’t think._

“Now, Leo, look at me this is important.”

He couldn’t. It was simply impossible for him to look Sylvy in the face, but he grabbed again his chin and lifted his head. Leo felt nauseous and the movement was only making it worse.

“You have not to tell anybody what we did.”

Leo frowned questioning.

“People can be evil, resenting.” Sylvy was caressing his hair while talking and normally Lionel would have enjoyed that kind of cuddles, but not at the moment. The nausea, the pain, the sweater that was chilling on his skin, the sticky _thing_ that he was feeling trickling on his legs, everything was making him too oversensitive. 

Lionel tried to pull away but Sylvy blocked him by the shoulders.

“Leo. They could say you’re in the team just because of me, or Dinho and Deco. Like you are the bitch that earned his way to the first team with his ass. Just trust me on this Leo. The fewer people know about this the better is. And with fewer I am saying: don’t tell anybody. Is that understood?”

Leo nodded again. He wasn’t sure to understand what he meant. He was good in football, he had demonstrated it and would demonstrate it no matter what. He didn’t need Sylvy for that. But he was sick and tired and he didn’t want to discuss, he just wanted another warm shower and go home. And he was pretty sure Sylvy knew these things better than him.

“Ok, I promise.”

Sylvy kissed again his forehead “Good boy. You are my good little boy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dedicate this chapter to the anon who commented “aren't they gonna penetrate him?” :P
> 
> Obviously, this is just fiction, and Sylvy, Deco and Dinho are marvellous person. I feel a little guilty for them.


	5. Talk to me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where there are some communication issues. And Cris becomes aware of something about Leo that he couldn’t guess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a little nightmare, but I decided to post it anyway or I risk trashing everything XD. I am afraid the language is even worse than usual, so, again, let me know it you notice mistakes.

Cristiano leaned his chin over his crossed forearms on the table and looked at Leo from the bottom up trough the camera “I hate skype”

“Why? That was your idea after all!”

Cristiano moaned “It’s a torture! I can see you but I can’t touch you.” He rise a hand to the camera and sigh dramatically. “So unfair”

Lionel chuckled all his dimples out, and Cristiano smiled, simply happy for that sound. 

In reality, skype was working well. At least, much better than the telephone. It was true that Leo could be brutal about topics that were not of his interest, but the counterpart is that he gave an uncommon attention, almost obsessive, to what tickled his curiosity. They were as lucky as to share the obsession for football. Cristiano was not obsessed with Argentina, but at least he shared the homesick feeling. And, to be honest, after all that talkings about Rosario, he was starting to be a little curious about it. 

 

But it was not always simple. Cristiano whined looking helplessly at the telephone while he was sitting on the bench of the dressing room. He was in Barcelona, they just won against Espanyol and he would have killed to celebrate with Leo, who was in the city, as Barça had played the day before. But Barça had lost so contacts were forbidden. _That little dictator._

“Ehi, what’s up? What is this face? We just won!” Kaka said, sitting close to Cristiano.

“Nothing.” Cris mumbled.

“Uhm… nope. This is not a face of ‘nothing.’” Ricky smiled the sweetest smile reassuringly as he started to massage Cris’ nape. _See, Leo? This is the difference between being really cute and caring, and looking cute just to frame poor innocent, handsome guys._

Cristiano sighed relaxing under the touch of the other man “I am kinda of… seeing someone…” He eventually mumbled. 

“That’s actually sweet.” The other commented, enlarging, if it was possible, the smile. 

“Yeah… sweet.”

“What? Is she mean to you?” And this is where the otherwise perfect Ricardo Kaká Izecson dos Santos Leite failed. Cristiano had wondered many times if, in the case Ricky had known about Cris sexual orientation, he would have tried to “cure” him. Perhaps he would have tried and exorcism. That, at least, would have been interesting.

“No, not exactly,” he bite the nail of his pinkie, considering what he could say. A part from that little detail about the morality of sexuality, Ricky has always been a very good friend for Cris: he was wise, gentle, and a very good listener. If Cris was looking for someone that could help him to pour out, that would be the person.

“Ok, let’s say she is…err… she has a peculiar nature…”

Ricky widened the eyes, but didn’t say anything, letting Cristiano to speak freely.

“Ok, she is a bit of autistic, I think.”

“Like… for real?

Cristiano nodded. 

“Wow. That’s a serious thing, Cris.”

“So, I don’t want to scare her or make her thinks that she has done something wrong, but still… sometime it is difficult.”

“For instance?”

“Like, for example she is quite obsessed with her work and if something is bad about it she just doesn’t want to have any contact with me.”

“Oh, that’s sweet. You have something in common, at least.”

“What do you mean?”

“You too are kind of obsessed with football, you know?”

“I am lovable.”

Ricky raised his eyebrows.

“I am!”

“Cris…”

“Ok, I might have had some bad reactions in the past. But! Give me credit! If you give me half a hour and a nice party I am almost friendly.”

“Nh. Let’s say a couple of hours.”

“Ok, but here we are speaking of a couple of days!”

“Really? Oh, wow, you find your match.”

“Humour me. But what really makes me angry is that if _I_ am the one that is upset she just sits there and wait until I am ok. Like, she never walks to me. The first step should always be mine.”

“Well… I think this is part of her nature, isn’t it?”

“Exactly! And that’s why I told you that I don’t want to make her guilty.” When Cristiano had tried to complain, Lionel had entered in one of those brooding silences that Cris had learnt to interpret as something on the line “I know I am completely fucked and I am sorry but I couldn’t help it and I don’t even deserve your attention”. Cris hated him being in that mood. So he more or less patiently stood. “But still…man… it’s hard sometimes!”

“Yeah, but…”

“And now -Cris went on like a river in flood- now I am here, and I wanted to see her but something went wrong at work, then I couldn’t, even though she lives here in Barcelona and we don’t have so many occasions to meet.”

Ricky laughed softly “Are you really complaining about distant relationships with me?”

Cris froze, open mouth. “Oh, fuck, you are right. I am sorry, I’m an idiot.” Ricky’s girlfriend was in Brazil. How sef-centered Cristiano was, to forget this.

“Don’t swear. And don’t worry. It is my decision in any case. And this is valid to you as well.”

“What do you mean?” Cris frowned.

“I always thought that people that describe you as an arrogant egoistic know nothing about you. You are demonstrating, once again, that you are a really kind-hearted person.”

“Now, don’t make it sound like I am pitying her.” Somehow, Cristiano knew that if Leo had the feeling that Cris was pitying him, he would killed him. Sweetly, as everything he did, but would inexorably killed him.

“I am not. What I am saying is that you are aware of her issues, so, you cannot blame her for being what she is.” 

“Ehi! You were supposed to be on my side!”

“I am! I really am! That’s why I am saying: are you sure you want to be into this? Our lives are stressful and, if you decide to have a relationship with someone that has some kind of mental issue, even though I am sure they have their own charm… You have to be aware that it could not be easy. That’s all.”

Cristiano clouded, considering. He saw very clearly that his relationship with Leo was complicated. There were a thousand reasons why he shouldn't spend his time with him, and Ricky knew half of them. But Cristiano was not one that gave up easily. Especially with people. He already failed in the past and he just didn’t want to fail on Leo. Plus, he could not ignore that difficulties, in some way, titillated something inside him. As Ricky said, he found his match.

“Ehi, I didn’t want to trouble you!” Ricky ruffled his hair, gaining a killing glare. “It’s just that I want you to know that I care about you and I want you to be happy. Love should make you shine of happiness and not being sullen, ok?”

“Ok, now you are speaking nonsenses, you, nourished with princess and fairy tales. Love is a strong word for…” Cristiano was interrupted by a Spanish waffle.

“Woah. Have I changed country and I didn’t know? Men, sometimes is hard being in the same dressing room with you.” Sergio entered, and, as usual, it seemed like he could occupy the entire space of the room.

“Really, Sese, with all the Brazilians and Portuguese teammates that you had had it sounds incredible that you still can’t understand Portuguese.” Kaká commented, without losing his smile not even for a second.

“Nope. Not a word.”

“Ask you Galician boyfriend to teach you some Galician and you will understand us.” Cristiano commented.

“We are usually too occupied to use our tongues in more interesting way.” He grinned, and Cristiano chuckled. They are used to make that kind of jokes, but not a word had been seriously spoken. There had always been this sort of mutual accordance in the dressing room to maintain certain topics as taboos and Cristiano would surely not been the one who was going to break them.

“So, what were you talking about?”

“Cristiano being in love.” Ricky replied widening smile.

“I am not…”

“Whohooo! Congratulation, princess! Who is he?”

Cristiano pictured their possible reaction at the name “Messi” and wondered for some seconds if it could be worthy. But, again, there was another interruption. This time it was Marcelo.

“Guys! What the hell you doing here? It’s time for party!” said. In Portuguese.

“I give up. We have been conquered and I should bring the news to the king.” 

“Come one, we are speaking the language of the greatest party. That’s what we deserve tonight! Go. Go. Go!”

Even without Leo, the night was nice enough.

***

Lionel finally went to Madrid, and since Cristiano was not living with his parents, he could invite him in his house. Leo was a little elusive at the invitation and he told to Cristiano that, in any case, he was going to stay at Kun to sleep, but, at the end, he accepted.

In the car travel to his house, Cristiano wanted to cheer him up with some Argentinian music that he had downloaded for the occasion. And it was a frankly terrible and ridiculous raegetton, but they both laugh a lot about how horrible it was, or maybe Leo laughed about the faces that Cristiano was making, but, in any case, laughing together at a stupid music was really good.

“I can’t even understand a word,” Cris said.

“Well, they are using a very underground language. Even I don’t know some words.”

“You know, I was thinking… You still have a very strong accent. How long have you been here in Spain? Why are you still speaking like this? Sometimes I think even I have a better Castilian.”

“You have not.”

“Mean! I was just saying, but obviously I am not a Spanish speaker. But you? Are you even trying?”

“I am Argentinian.”

“I know, but you are living here.”

“Yes. But I am Argentinian.”

“Ok! But this is another thing. Like, haven’t you even learnt Catalan? I think they are quite obsessed with their own language.”

Leo silently shook his head.

“Do you even know another language other than Argentinian Spanish?” Cris chockled.

Stubborn silence.

“Would you learn some Portuguese for me?”

“No.”

“Oh, come on! I would love to listen to you speaking to me in Portuguese. I can speak to you with an Argentinian accent if you want.” The last sentence was a quite bad attempt of imitation.

“I don’t care you to speak in Argentinian. And you are not so good, in any case.”

“That’s mean, again! I am making an effort for you! Can’t you make an effort for me?”

Lionel hid his hands in the sleeves and gripped hard the seat. He didn’t watch Cristiano directly as he asked, “What do you want me to say?” In Portuguese.

“You know it!”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes you do! You are speaking it right now!”

“I am making funny noises and – he stumbled- mistakes. I am ridiculous.” He was bright red and Cristiano could not understand if for rage or embarrassment. Both, more likely.

“You are not ridiculous.” Cris smiled reassuringly. “Even though we should do something for that Brazilian accent.”

“I hate it,” he whined.

“I agree, it’s too twee.”

“I don’t’ hate Brazilian. I hate speaking another language.”

“Why? You are not bad at all!”

Lionel closed himself in another silence.

“Now you make me want to make you speak Portuguese forever,” he smirked.

Cristiano was watching the road but he could feel the Leo’s stare on him.

“A part from the fact that you will speak even less than usual, won’t you?”

Again, just silence.

“Alright, alright, come back to your Argentinian for God’s sake!”

“I hate it.” Lionel muttered again.

“I ‘ve noticed.” Cris commented, turning the car in his private driveway.

When they arrived, Cristiano thought he should first show him the house, but Lionel didn’t express great interest in the furniture, nor the interior design and not even to the Cristiano’s trophies. 

On the other hand, Cristiano cough Lionel peering with curiosity the pictures of him with his family, especially the ones where he was young, in Madeira. He really had a sweet tooth about family roots, not only his own, but also the others’. Cristiano considered that it must be very hard for him to be separated from his family. Or maybe it was the opposite way round: Lionel was so attached to his family _because_ he was separated from them. 

When they reached the small pitch that Cristiano had in the backyard, they exchanged a look. It was just very natural for them to start playing. 

It was tough. Cristiano realised that one thing was facing him in a team game; one other completely different story was the direct face-off. Lionel was so rapid, so precise and, above all, so determined to win. The challenge became soon more psychological than physical. They simply couldn’t stop playing: if one won one game, the other one refused to leave the pitch without the possibility of re-match, and they went on and on forever. 

Until, there was a moment when Cris was winning, and he got a full force kicked ball on the stomach. 

Cris looked shocked at Leo who was staring back with red face.

“What the fuck?!”

“You are really, really good!”

“Well, thank you very much. Next time you are going to flatter me could you please do it without trying to kill me?”

“Damn it! You should have really come to Barça!” Lionel was shouting at full voice.

Cris was taken aback. Like, what the hell? Where was the sweet, quiet, muttering Leo?

“With you in the team we would have been even stronger! We could…” 

“Do what? Fighting as we are doing now for each ball? In the same team? It’s obvious that we need to be separate to grow! To shine more and more!”

“What you are saying has no sense!”

“Sorry, but _you_ have no sense right now! Be beaten can be hard, I see, but…”

“I wasn’t beaten!” Lionel looked at him outraged; Cris couldn’t help laughing;  
and then Lionel just turned and marched away, leaving a very, very perplex Cristiano.

Cristiano re-entered in the house to have a quick wash. He should be annoyed, but in reality he found the situation so surreal to be almost ridiculous. Nevertheless, he was reflecting about his words. 

It was surprised by the reaction. But he was also surprised by the fact that Leo couldn’t understand. Cristiano found very normal to have a designed enemy, he was feeding on confronts, and this was the driving force in football, and basically in all his life, if he wanted to be honest.

Lionel, on the other hand, seemed to be simply obsessed by football, in an almost onanistic way. He doesn’t need anyone to be the best, just himself and his own mania. 

They were the opposite, in every little details, and the more Cris realised this, the more intrigued he was.

After some minutes, finally, Leo re-entered in the house, as well. He stayed at the door of the bathroom, shuffling his feet, looking at Cris that was finishing to washing himself at the basin.

“What are you looking at, perv?”

As expected, Lionel just bowed his head with red cheeks.

“Like what you see, at least?”

And Lionel became so red that Cris tough he was about to explode.

“Go, have your wash, if you want. You can use one of my tracksuits if you want to change clothes”

Lionel murmured something as he rushed into the bathroom. And there it was the usual Leo. Silent, sweet, mumbling, so difficult to read. It seemed like Leo had only two modalities: this one, or sudden, explosive rage. Apparently, it was impossible to obtain a sane middle way from him. 

When Lionel reached Cristiano in the kitchen, some minutes later, he was, indeed, wearing a tracksuit of Cristiano. It was so large on him that he could have swim in it.

Cristiano simply couldn’t decide if it was more cute or comic.

Lionel dragged himself to the bar of the kitchen, still with bowed head and a faint of red on his face. 

“I am sorry,” he murmured at the end, “I was being impolite.”

“Impolite. Nice way to call an attempted murder.”

Again, Lionel became so red that even his ears were fuming.

Cristiano thought that there should be some kind of humanitarian law that prohibited torturing Lionel in that way, but he was so funny that he just couldn’t stop.

Cris chocked “And they said that I have a bad temper. Surely they have never saw you like 20 minutes ago.”

“That’s why I never speak to anybody when I am upset.”

“Ah! Stitching up the world! That’s what you do! Make all the people to believe that you are the good boy and hiding your bad side!”

“No! I just… I don’t want to be mean and…”

“Oh, yes, you are! You have done it even to me.”

Lionel murmured something intelligible. 

“What?”

“I am sorry! What else I can do to apologise?”

“Oooh! That’s interesting!”

Cristiano came close to him with predatory eyes. He leaned his arms against the table behind Lionel, blocking him. He bowed his head reducing the distance between them. 

“So, let’s see… what could I ask you now?” Cristiano wondered, towering Lionel who was looking up to him with big eyes.

“Maybe I can ask you to speak only Portuguese to me?” he said in Portuguese.

Lionel opened in a smile “So, basically you don’t want me to talk to you anymore?” he replied in the same idiom.

Cristiano weighted up the idea. “Yeah, you are right. We had arrived to this conclusion, hadn’t we? So… “ He lowered the tone of his voice. “Maybe I may ask you to be my sex slave?”

And Lionel suddenly became so blank the Cris seriously thought he could faint right there. 

“Hey! I was joking! Relax!” Cristiano burst out laughing. “Unless you really are turned on by master and servant’s play...Joking! Joking! I am still joking! Jeez, could you please not having a hearth attack? A corpse in the house will be a hassle.” 

Lionel regained a little colour even thought looked still very anguished, swinging on the chair.

Cristiano felt now a little guilty and felt like he crossed a line. He caressed away the hair on his forehead before kissing it.

“You don’t have to take everything so literally.”

“Can’t help but. It’s part of… me.”

Cris kissed him lightly on the eyes. There is so much he needed to learn. And ok, maybe it was not too bad to tease him a little, but there is no point to make him feel so uncomfortable. Speaking of.

“And also… I was wondering… ok, personal question here, but…”

Lionel peeped up at him.

“You look always so embarrassed and prudish when sex is mentioned, like… Are you… you are not virgin, right?”

“No.” He replied blankly.

“Even with men?” Cris asked with a sly smile, thinking that he got him.

Lionel twitched a little before nodding.

“Oh. Ok. Good. Even better, actually. Then why…” Cris stopped just on time. Was he really asking Lionel why he was always run away from him? Like, ok, where the hell has his pride gone? Cristiano Ronaldo dos Santos Aveiro _begging_ for sex? Cris got it: he was really intrigued by the guy, but there were some limits he couldn’t cross.

“Cris?” Lionel was still swinging a little.

“What?”

"Are you angry with me?"

Cris sighed. "No. Why should I?"

“Can we… could we play football again? I promise to behave.” He asked, with a faint of smile.

 _And here we are again, with the elusive Leo_ “Oh, yeah, why not?” He replied coldly.

But Lionel didn’t get the tone, or even if he got it, he seemed not to care, because he opened in his childish smile and Cristiano couldn’t help but pecking the point of his nose.

Leo beat him five times in a row afterwards. But there weren’t the losses what was troubling Cristiano.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The “Galician boyfriend” of Sergio Ramos is obviously Fernando Torres ;) (even though I don't even know if he does know Galician). I am not so sure about when the next update will be: I am having a busy life to the end of this month. We’ll see ;) In any case, thank you very much for all of you who are reading, leaving kudos, commenting, and supporting!


	6. Mirror mirror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Leo thinks he should trust more his friends. But maybe he shouldn't

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So…. Err… I had promised that I would be back. I am just very bad in timescale, apparently. Anyway, here I am. And if I am here I have to thank so much all the people that still had read it, and commented it and supported me. I mean, I was genuinely surprised by your affection and I don’t know how to properly thank you. I have the best readers ever, I don’t deserve you ;__;
> 
> As usual, English is not my first language and I want to improve, so any mistakes you’ll make me notice will be just another step to a better English.

The truth is that Leo had never properly understood relationships. He had his first girlfriend when he was fifteen. Her name was Macarena, from Rosario, his hometown. He thought it was very nice that a girl seemed to be interested in him. But, still, he didn’t really know what to do with her. If he should kiss her, or touch her, and she should probably have the same problems because they weren’t touching so much. But then she told Leo that she has been told by her parents to try to be kind with him, and everything ended up like this. The experience left Leo confused and even more suspicious about humankind. 

But then there had been Antonela. He had known her for ages and he could have never imagined that they could be something more than friends. But she kissed him on a beach party during the Christmas party and then all went… very natural and sweet. They have never defined exactly what they were, but Leo didn’t care. They kissed a lot, cuddle a lot, and then their touches became more and more intimate. Leo was almost scared about the strength of what he felt when Antonela was touching him in a certain way. He liked it, of course he liked, but the feeling of loosing control on himself also scared him a bit. But Anto smiled –oh, she used to smile so much!- and told him that really, everything was perfectly normal. He looked up at her: bright eyes, pink cheeks, long hair hiding the curvature of her breast, and he thought he has never seem anything more beautiful in his life. 

Everything crumbled down when Leo returned in Spain. He had never been very good in conversation, and when they connected via Skype he simply didn’t know what to say. Also, he was not very interested in what she was saying. To be honest, he had always been interested only in football. After few weeks Antonela told him that she couldn’t withstand the distance combined with he being so little communicative. She told him that they still be friends, but nothing more. Leo didn’t’ get exactly what she meant, but apparently there will be no more cuddles, and no more smiles only for him, on the beach. He knew he was going to miss that a lot.

Now, Leo was taught that boys are supposed to be with girls and that was what he did, but then he discovered that boys could also be interested in boys and that open a brand new world to Leo. But “new” to Leo, always meant confusion and a bit of concern. He had felt very well with Antonela but he was feeling very well also with his teammates and spotting the difference between the two things was quite hard for Leo. If there was any. 

So, for example there was Kun. Kun had always been very sweet, as sweet as Antonela. He also cuddle him, and made him laugh a lot and Leo had never been as comfortable as he had been with him. Lionel also valued him at least as beautiful as Antonela. So, one evening, when they were sitting on the carpet, very close to each other and Kun was recalling funny moments of the training, Leo lean on and kissed him on the lips.

But when Leo moved back Kun was watching him with wide eyes, burning red.

“Ehm…Leo, I don’t think I feel that way”

“What do you mean?” he frowned.

“Oh, Gosh!”

And then Kun tried to explain him the difference between friendship, even touchy friendship as the one they had, and love, or sex, because you could have love without sex, or sex without love, and that’s fine: no judgment. Leo at that point was helplessly confused.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked at the end.

Kun hugged him hard ruffling his hair. “No. Nothing wrong. It’s just that I want to kiss only girls, but, I swear, there is nothing wrong with you.”

Leo sighed relieved, but decided that he will let people to decide the “nature of their relationship” –as Kun said- because honestly, Leo felt like he could never properly understand that point.

****

For instance, Leo would have sworn that he was just a friend with Silvy. But apparently Leo was wrong and to show Silvy how much he cares about him he had to have sex with him. And then, again, he couldn’t properly place in this frame what had happened with Dinho and Deco. In one word: he was confused and a little worried, because he didn’t want to mess with people that he cared because of his misunderstandings.

And so there was that day. It was not unusual that Dinho drove him home, after the training. It was less usual that he deviated to his own house, instead.

Dinho parked the car and without excitation put a hand on Leo’s crotch.

Lionel froze at the touch and looked at Dinho with big eyes. “What are you doing?”

“I thought we moved from the step of being prudish” he chuckled, as he leaned forward, messing about the seat.

“But I…whoa!” Lionel was suddenly fixing the ceiling of the car as he tipped over the seat, but the image was soon replaced by Dinho, shirtless, looking down smirking over him.

It was happening again, again everything was so quick that Leo couldn’t even processing. And then there were the hands of Dinho over him, urging his shirt off. 

It was too fast, everything too fast and Leo didn’t know what to do, what he was supposed to do. “Dinho! Stop it!” He tried to sit up, but Dinho forced him down with full strength. 

He glared at him “Stop playing the virgin part, I know what you did with Sylvy”

Leo looked at him in shock “You know?” almost whispered.

“Of course I know!” – He reached his face and caressed his cheek. This time the touch was gentle, and Leo relaxed a bit into it, stop struggling.

“And you liked it, don’t you?”

 

The question caught Leo off-guard. He didn’t ever thought about it. In fact, he had desperately tried not to thought about the entire fact at all and now Dinho wanted him to process it and… he shakes his head. 

Leo had understood that people have sex with people that they love but everything was too fast, too difficult for Leo to comprehend and he really hoped that Dinho could understand, and stop and understand. Because what people want is not always what Leo wants but that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t love people or care for them. 

But no. “Oh, no, Leo, you like it. Because you like us, don’t you?”, Dinho replied.

Leo nodded, because that was true. 

“That’s why you are always around us? Don’t you? The way in which you hang on me when you score, how you always look up at me…”

His hands were going down and down, until he reached his groin and pressed him with circular movements. Leo couldn’t help to moan.

“See? I told you like it. Our little Leo…”

Leo was lost. Because yes, it was a pleasant sensation, but at the same time he wasn’t so sure that he liked the situation, that he really wanted Dinho to touch him that way. But Dinho has already lift a bit, just the space he need to finally removed Leo’s trousers and underwear.

“And we will take such a good care of you.”

Leo couldn’t supress a feeling over consciousness of his own nudity and tried to cover himself in some way. He bend his leg and shift a little on his side, curling as much as he could-that was very little, giving the space of the seat. He had closed his eyes, but he could listen to the noise of Dinho stripping over him, and then messing with the glove compartment.

And then there were the hot, sweaty palms of Dinho on his butt, fondling and stroking.

“You are so small but well done. Look at you ass and tell me it is not done for take it.”

Leo didn’t know what to say. He curled further but was still exposed to the touch of Dinho, who seemed uninterested to an eventual reply. 

“Now, don’t move. You can stay like this, if you want.”

And then Leo muffled a hiss with his arms when he felt a finger invading him with his all length. All the pleasant sensations were gone and he felt just discomfort at that moment.

“I am sorry kiddo, but we lost so much time chit chatting and now we have to hurry up if we don’t want to worry your father, don’t we?”

Leo just nodded in his braced arms. Yes, he really wanted to go home soon.

“So, just relax, I am adding another finger to open you for good, ok? But you have to relax.”

He nodded again and bit his lip. This time he managed not to make noises, as it was expecting the intrusion, but he felt like his membrane was tearing apart. But Dinho was rubbing his arms and legs and Leo could feel his hot breath close to his face. “Shhhh… Leo, you are being so good. I know you can take it. You have bore worst in matches, haven’t you? And you can bear pain so well, can’t you?” 

Leo nodded again and this was like a signal for Dinho that was not opening and rotating the fingers opening him more and more. 

Leo was gradually getting used to it and was managing to relax a little, but Dinho, on the contrary, was starting to get nervous.

“Oh, fuck, Leo, I am too hard, I can’t wait anymore.”

He extract abruptly extract his fingers and Leo flinched on the seat, but Dinho grab his knuckles and rotate him on his back, spreading his legs and beginning to push inside.

Leo tried to move, to push against his body to move him away, to stop him. At least, to slow him. But it didn’t work.

Leo cried out when he felt Dinho invading him. It was too big, burning too much.

“It hurts! Dinho, it hurts!”

But he didn’t stop and push deeper “Stop whining Leo. I know you can stand it. I... nh”

Dinho rolled his eyes while he moved back and then push forward, causing another sob from Leo. 

Leo still had his hands over Dinho, but he had stop trying to move him away. All he can do at the moment was grabbing his shoulders and brace himself for the next stroke. And then again, and again, each hit felt as deeper and stronger.

“Yes! Yes, baby, I told you you can do it! I wish you could see you right now. You are made for this. You…” Dinho grab his hips so strongly that Leo could feel his nails carving the flesh, but the pain was soon forgotten when Dinho hit him so violently that Leo loose his grip on his shoulders. He spread his arms on the seat and arched his back, sobbing louder while shutting close his eyes.

 

Leo felt boneless, as a ragdoll. Now Dinho had a rhythm and Leo felt his own body moving for the effect of Dinho’s strokes. He couldn’t do any kind of resistance anymore when Dinho push him against his own thrusts and he let him spread wider his legs, leaning them over his shoulders. 

Yes, Leo could listen to Dinho chant of “fuck” and “yes” spaced out by his grunts. He could also hear his own little whines, escaping from the parted lips, but all the sounds were so far away, as they were from the underwater. And, in fact, Leo could feel himself drowning down and down out of reality. 

It was a dream. It wasn’t happening for real. Surely he could reset everything, delete it. This had never happened.

But then Dinho was grabbing his hair hard and Leo couldn’t help but open his eyes wide for the pain. And then he felt like stone pressing down in his waist. Because that was really Dinho, his Dinho over him, with his congested face and parted lips shining with saliva. 

He tried to close his eyes again, shaking his head and pushing the image away, replace it with the comfortable picture of Dinho smiling at him on the field. All Leo wanted was pretending that the man over him was just a stranger, but Dhino’s grip was taking in head in place.

“Look at me! I want you to look.” The words sound rough between the pants, but the tone was demanding. Leo didn’t know if it was the tone of his voice or the pain of Dinho grab on his hair, but he couldn’t help but obey. Maybe, he was just getting used to obey.

And then Dinho made a face, half smiling, half biting his lower lip as accelerating his trusts. But the grip on his hair was softer, almost a ruffling and he transformed in a caress, over his cheek.

“Yes, Leo, like this. I want you to look. Look what have you done to me. Look at what you do to people. I swear your are done for this. You… Fuck!” He was now pressing a thumbs on his mouth, parting his lips. 

“Fuck, I wish I could have two cocks and I could slam one in your face. You would like it don’t you?” Leo could feel tears stinging the edge of his eyes and remembers the horrible experience with Sylvy. He weakly shakes his head, almost a tremble, but Dinho ignored him, he was even faintly bobbing Leo’s face, in his grip.

“Yes, I am sure you would suck my cock so hard. Because this is what you do, don’t you? This is your place, isn’t it? You are here to suck my cock. You are here to take cocks. You….” Dinho bend down and grunted against his neck.

Leo honestly couldn’t understand a word of Dinho’s ramblings at the moment. He just wanted everything to finish soon. Everything hurt. The initial acute pain on his ass has been substitute by a deeper, dull ache at the base of his stomach. Even his thighs were hurting, tired for the position. 

And then Dinho was looking at him and his face was so close that Leo could feel his hot breath on his face. “Tell me what you want, Leo. Tell me… Do you want me to come inside you? You want to be filled by my come. All inside you... Tell me…”

Dinho gulped closing his eyes, as he was making an effort, but he was soon fixing his gaze in Leo’s eyes. “You want me to pull it out and come all over you? My cunt shining all over your body… -he caressed Leo cheek - On your face… And you can lick it away… you…”. 

Leo fixing at him dazzled as a mouse in front of a snake, without managing to realise what he was saying, but then Dinho was grabbing his hair again, and he hissed at him so angrily that he was spitting. “I said tell me! Tell me what you want Leo!” 

“I… Please!”

“Yes! Beg me, Leo! Tell me what to do! Tell me how you want my cunt.”

“Just stop! Please!”

“So you want me inside? Now?” he panted.

“Yes! Please!” And Leo was hating himself so much at the very moment he said that, but Dinho arched his back, rolling back his eyes and pushed deeply into him. He came hard, all split into Leo, before collapsing over him with a grunt.

Breath. It was hard, with the dead weight of Dinho on him. But the worst thing was the smell of the come. It was so strong that Leo thought he could taste it, feeling it down into his throat. And then he felt overconscious of the small cabin of the car. He shifted uncomfortably. He needed fresh air, he needed to go out. He just wanted to leave that car.

“Fuck, Leo, give me some break.” Dinho finally lifted, moving out from him. Leo moaned for the pain and placed a hand on his lower stomach, curling up again over the seat. He shivered when realised that the come of Dinho was spilling out of him, sliding over his thighs. 

“Come on Leo, dress. We are already very late.” Dinho had moved to the driving seat and was already buttoning his shirt. 

He was right. They were late, and Leo wanted so much to be curled in his bed, instead of the stinking car. And Leo felt confused, because what they did was supposed to be a nice thing, and why he did not feel good. He couldn’t move. He was so tired, and he didn’t want to worsen the situation smearing himself further. 

But then Dinho was grabbing his shoulder, and the touch was warm and gentle. “Kiddo. You have been so good tonight. Fuck, Leo, you are a bless from heaven. But now I need this last thing for you. I need you to get dress, enter in your house, smile to your father, say goodnight and go to bed. Can you do this for me, Leito?”

Leo nodded. He really wanted to do that. To go home. But he simply couldn’t move. But then Dinho was uncurling him, helping with the clothes.

“Like this. Good boy.” He was now stroking his hair, tidying him up. “And don’t forget! Never talk to you father about this. Don’t tell anybody or there will be so many trubles.”

“Sylvy said the same…”

“Exactly.” 

“But then he told you…”

“Of course he told me! You can trust me, or Sylvy, and Deco. But nobody else.”

Leo startled at the name of Deco. No. Not him, too. “Please. Could you not talk to Deco? Please.”

“Uh?” Dinho stopped and looked at him intensively for some seconds, before grinning. “All right. If you want so…”

****

When Leo went back home, his father tried to address him. “Where have you been? I was expecting you at home one hour ago.”

“I was out with Dinho” he mumbled, directing himself to the bathroom.

Leo was feeling sick. He wasn’t unable to stop thinking about the feeling of Dinho inside him, his burning heat and especially the vision of Dinho grimace when… He curled over the toilet and threw up.

“Lionel?” Jorge was knocking at the door. “Leo, are you ok? Open the door!”

He was not ok. He rose up with trembling legs and felt cold sweat.

“ ‘m ok…” he said, as he approach the shower.

“No, you are not. You vomited.”

There was nothing he can say. The only important thing now was cleaning himself.

But his father was still in front of the bathroom when Leo finally went out. “Have you drunk, Lionel Andres Messi?”

“No” he says, moving forward. He really didn’t want to face his father right at the moment, all he wanted was going to bed, but Jorge grab his arm.

“Listen, I am happy that you are making friends. God knows how happy I am, but this is not the way to behave. You have your responsibilities now. If you are going out late in the night, and coming back drunk…”

“I am not dunk!”

“We made sacrifices… _You_ made so many sacrifices, you cannot ditch everything now for a couple of parties! How do you think you will train tomorrow?”

“I will be fine!”

“No, you will not!”

“Dinho…”

“Forget about him! He thinks he is the champion and can do whatever he wants. Well, you are not. Not yet! You need only to be focus!” 

That was enough for Lionel. First there was Dinho being strange with him, now even his father was angry and, again, he didn’t understand why. _He did not drunk._ And, for sure, he would never give less than 110% to football, no matter if it was a match or just a training. He shook off his father and directed himself in the bedroom, decided not to talk to anybody, anymore.

Jorge stared at the door of Lionel in disbelief. He knocked the door and called him for a couple of minutes, without any result. The boy could be very stubborn if he wanted. It was usually an admirable quality, he could see in Lionel’s perseverance in following his dreams, no matter what. He could see it in the pitch where no matter the hits, the fouls, the pain, Lionel keeps going on and on until he could sock the ball into the net. This was just the other side of the coin. The not very pleasant one.

Jorge sighs. He can’t complain so much. Lionel has always been so quiet during his adolescence that Jorge was actually praying him to go out of the house, sometimes. Now Jorge was wondering if Leo was just a late bloomer.

But, again, Lionel was hanging out with adults, professional footballers. Jorge was pretty sure that they knew what they were doing and where were the limits. Still, it was really late and Lionel was sick and this was not good. Jorge was wondering if he should speak with Dinho, but on the other hand, he was afraid that that could have been too much of an intromission in Leo’s life and that he could end up increasing the new rebellious attitude of his son.

Jorge sighed deeply going back to his room. Those were the moments when he was missing Celia most. And then he felt ashamed. She was doing a horrific job bringing up three kids alone. He has only Leo, that was also the calmer and quieter of all of them. He really could not fail on him.

 

Lionel heard his father calling him through the door, but he has always been very good in focusing and isolating himself from the world, and he was able to reduce the voice outside as an insignificant, only slightly annoying, background noise. He paid no attention to it, but on the other hand he found himself completely caught by his own imagine reflected in the full body mirror.

He was thinking to the words of Dinho. “Look at the effect you do on people”. But Lionel couldn’t understand. He was not beautiful. He was short, with big nose, big ears, asymmetrical eyes.

Leo lowered his sight, for some reason incapable of continue to watch himself. He was ugly; he was boring, and dull. Macarena never really wanted him, Anto gave up, and Kun… didn’t want even to try with him. He was nothing a part from football. There was not a single reason why someone should be interested in him outside the pitch.

Leo peered briefly at his reflex before fixing the ground again. He should be flattered by the attentions of Silvy, Dinho and Deco. He should not ruin everything again with his fears and tantrums. 

Lionel climbed the bed, and curled himself completely wrapped into the sheets, exhausted by the events of the evening. He had to learn how to trust people, exactly as in Barcelona he had learned how to trust his teammates and pass the ball. But, for the moment he just wanted to stay like this, as enclosed in his personal shell made of sheets.


	7. Who knows?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Cris has a unexpected visit and Leo an unexpected call

Cristiano was in the middle of his morning gym session when he was disturbed by the ring of the doorbell.

He was surprised when he opened the door. He wasn’t certainly expecting the visit of a little Argentinian, and this wasn’t even the one that Cristiano would have wished to have there. 

This one was a little taller, darker, still cute in his own way –seriously has Argentina recently became a puppy fabric?- but with a challenging glance instead of the sweet awkwardness. 

“Oh. I didn’t know you wear glasses.”

“Well, I barely know you name. And still, you are the one in front of my door.”

“It’s Sergio Agüero. And I need to talk to you.”

“Of course I know you,” said Cristiano inviting him to enter. “ El Kun from ‘the others’ of Madrid, right?”

“I said it’s Sergio,” he replied glancing.

“Alright, Sergio,” he stressed the name, showing the way to the living room.

In the short walk the brain of Cristiano was working hard producing a train of thoughts focusing on the reason of the visit of _Sergio_.

He doubted he was there to talk about how cold was the winter in Madrid, or to ask for gossips from the Real Madrid locket room.

Cristiano had never properly met him, if the shake of hands two times per year before the derby of Madrid were excluded, but he knew he was a very close friend of Leo. 

The fact that Agüero was there meant only one thing. 

He knew.

Leo had told him.

Leo was going around talking about them, after so many years in which Cristiano managed to hide his personal life to the world. 

Cristiano was going to kill Leo.

“May I offer you something?” He asked nonchalantly trying to hide the discomfort that was rising in him. 

“No, thanks,” the other replied, helping himself on the coach.

“Well, I hope you don’t mind if I am taking some water. I was working out.”

Kun merely shrugged.

Cris deliberately took his time to take the glass of water from the kitchen. He was surprised and bothered but he didn’t want to show none of this to his “guest”. He took a couple of deep breathes walking back to the living room and when he sat on the armchair, leaning back, he show the most self confident smile. 

“So, Sergio, what do you want to talk about?” 

Conversely, the body language of the other was screaming prickliness and was restless on the couch, tapping the floor with his feet. “Don’t act as you don’t know.”

“I honestly have no clue.” He replied, sipping his water.

”I want to know what are your intentions on Leo,” he spat. And here they were.

“Lionel Messi?”He asked curiously lifting one eyebrow.

“Yes, Lionel Messi. Who else?”

“My worse enemy? The pain in the ass? The pothole on my stairway to heaven?”

“Stop joking. I know there is something between you two and I need to know exactly what do you want from him,” he growl.

“Cripple him?”

“I said stop joking,” Sergio shouted this time.

Cristiano smirked, rolling the water in the glass. “I can’t see why not. It sounds like a joke to me. You coming to my house, barking like a rabid pincher about… what exactly? I still haven’t understood.”

“This is the farthest thing to a joke ok?” Cris raised an eyebrow watching at Kun standing up, with a threating finger pointed against him.

“Is it? Because I swear you look pretty funny to me right now.”

“Yes, it is! Leo…” he hesitated.

Cris can clearly see the discomfort of the other in the way he was biting his lips, the hand now close in a fist. “Oh! Now I see! Are you jealous, little pincher?”

“What? NO!”

“Really? So why are you coming here all ruffled about what might or might not be between me and ?”

“Because…” Cris could see again the reluctance in the other and his smirk widened. “He is my friend ok? And I care about him.”

“And you are jealous.”

“I said no,” he gestured. “Listen, I am not interested in those goods, ok?” He pointed himself. “Straight. Boobs. Curves. I am married for God’s sake!”

“Oh, if you knew how many “married” men I’ve seen doing unmentionable things.”

“Well, I am not one of them. I am just…”

“Jealous.”

“Stop saying that! Listen carefully,” this time Aguëro index was pointed versus Ronaldo. 

“I have no clue of what Leo sees in you. But I warn you. I have an eye on you. And if I only suspect that you are threating Leo just a little less that what he deserves as the wonderful person he is I swear to God I will hunt you to the hell’s garden and kick you ass until in breaks in two.”

“Nice imagination for a straight guy,” the other commented, placing the glass over the tea table.

“You should take me much more seriously, you know?”

“Yeah, of course, I am impressed. In fact, I am all trembling.” He stood up, waiting for the other to imitate him. 

Kun simply growled, taking long breathes to calm down.

“Alright, I think that our discussion is finished. I need to take a diazepan to calm down my poor old nerves, after you warnings.”

“I don’t like you,” Kun muttered, walking outside the house.

“It’s a mutual feeling, my little overexcited puppy. Finally, something we could agree with.”

When Cristiano closed the door, his hands were actually shacking. It was clear that he manage to hide his discomfort only because Agüero had been equally if not more nervous than him.

“”Fuck,” he mutter to himself, going to take the cordless phone. 

His discomfort increased at the sound of each ring on the other side of the line. “You better answer the fucking phone, Lionel,” he threat, pacing through the living room.

The reply actually arrived after a few rings. “Cris? Why are you calling me?”

Cristiano silently thanked the Lord that yes, at least, Lionel deigned to answer the phone. But the sound of his voice was not enough to calm him. “You tell me. I received a visit from your friend Sergio Agüero.”

“Kun was there?” he sounded surprised.

“Yeah, he went here to talk about us.”

“I don’t understand. Why… what did he say?”

“Oh, you can ask him if you want. Right now I have a question for you. _How does he know about us?_ ”

“Oh.”

“Oh?! This is all you have to say?” He punched the wall. “For fuck’s sake Leo! You set me under one thousands rules and limits and barriers. And I asked you only one thing! One thing: do not tell anybody about us. So, tell me: why does he know everything?”

“I didn’t tell him anything! He guessed!”

“Are you kidding me? How could he possibly guessed?”

“Well… The last time I was in your house, and you wanted to convince me not to go to sleep at Kun, and you smooched my neck? Do you remember?”

Cristiano remembered very well, and the memory was still provoking shivers. Leo had been reluctant to been touch, and had been rigid in the process, but still he allowed him to indulge on him and Cristiano counted that as a little victory. Step by step.

“You left marks,” Leo concluded his explanation

“I didn’t suck so hard…” he squeaked defensive. 

“Enough.”

“Alright, alright” Cris pushed up the bridge of his glasses. He got it. Leo had a very, very delicate skin. But still… “But how could he guessed that it was me?”

“I don’t know. Ask him.”

"I am asking you, instead. What did you say to him to make him _guess ?”_

“Nothing. I don't know.” The soft, neutral tone typical of Leo.

Cristiano gnawed the nail of his middle finger. He knew that Leo wasn't lying. Leo was ontologically unable to lie. And it was also more than plausible that he hadn’t realised how Kun could have been able to interpret some body signal or implied messages half said. He shouldn't be angry, but neither he was ok.

“Is there someone else who “guessed”?” He grumbled after half a minute.

“Uhm… my father.”

“Your… Jesus, Leo! Are you going to put neon advertising in Puerta del Sol?”

“No. Why should I?” 

“Tell me. First Kun and now your father, too?”

“I told you that Kun guessed,” he repeated again. “And I promised to my father that I will never keep secrets with him again.”

“You…”

“I am not going to tell anybody. He is neither. He only worries for me.”

That hit Cris right in the guts. Of course he did. That’s what fathers were supposed to do with their kids. Take care of them.

Cristiano moved to torture his ring finger’s nail. He didn’t really want to think about the possible reaction that _his_ daddy would have had if he had knew that his son was, effectively, a fag.

Cris slide through the wall, sitting on the floor. 

And Leo was so naïve. He could see why his father was worried. Not considering how much Lionel family seemed to be united. 

And then he thought about Kun. What if he was really just saying the truth? What if he was really, simply worried for his friend? If he tried to walk in his shoes: being a friend to someone as Leo, and then dealing with someone as the image that he gave of himself… well, he would probably react in the same way that Kun did.

“You are right,” he sighed. “I was a dick. I was just scared.”

“I am sorry, Cris. But I swear that I am not going to tell anything to the press about you. Neither my dad, or Kun.”

“Ok…” They were just people who loved Leo. Thinking that they wanted to harm him was just egocentric and paranoid. 

“Cris?” The voice of Leo awoke Cris from his own thoughts.

“May I ask you... Could we possibly… Could we stop the phone call. Please?”

“You know what?” He smirked. “No. This is your punishment for spread the voice. We are having a loooong conversation now.”

Cristiano could clearly hear Lionel sighing. “Ok.” He eventually said.  
“I was just joking!” He half laughed. “You don't have to do something if you don't like it,” he added.

And then there was only silence, on the other side of the line.

“Leo?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“You are always so kind. I feel so good with you.”

Cristiano looked at a blank wall in front of him quite surprised. He really couldn't understand Leo. Cristiano actually thought that he had been mean through the entire call.

“You are welcome,” he awkwardly said, at the end.

“Can we stop the call now?”

“Yes,” he smiled, “we can.”

"Good. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye to you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... well... I am less and less convinced about this story. I am very sorry about the fact that the quality of my writing would disappoint you. But, on the other hand, there is no way I could improve if not going on, and every comment will help me. Moreover, I have always been on the other side and as a reader I hate when stories are interrupted and I am like "Please, give me a summary, a draft of a draft, but tell me how it ends!" So, I try to go on è.é.


	8. Happy Birthday (I)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Leo gave a present that he didn't even know that he had

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please check the tags since I added something more and you may be triggered.

It was the birthday party of Deco and Leo, of course was invited. When he was walking through the gravel path at the entrance he was doing his best to control the sense of anxiety that he was suffering.

He couldn’t just focus the reason of his annoyance and the sound of the stones under his feet was only getting things worse. He thought himself that it was because he was going into a house full of people. It must be that, and nothing else, because he decided that he trusted his friends and he had to be happy to see them.

When Leo entered in the house, Dinho hugged him and since then he basically never left him. There were many people, but Dinho was always there, an arm protectively around his shoulders.

But still, the lump in the throat of Leo couldn’t melt away. So he tried to draw it in alcohol.

During the night, many drinks had been offered to Leo, who gladly accept them. He had always been told how much funnier he was drunk, and he seemed more relaxed with people. In reality Leo didn’t like to be drunk, because it had not control of the situation, but it helped, especially when there were many people, as in that party. Because that, of course, was the reason why he was nervous.

And maybe it was the fuzziness of the alcohol, or maybe, he was distracted by Dinho, who was gently petting him on the sofa speaking with anyone was approaching them, so that he could just nod and smile and not be bothered to have a conversation.

And then Sylvy casually told him that he called his father telling him that he would stay there for the night, but Dinho was still stroking his back and Leo just nodded, sheepishly. 

He should have noticed that everyone else was leaving. 

When Deco brought him a cup of coffee, Leo politely thanked. He was sitting on one side of the big L-sofa, taking little sips of the aromatic, warm liquid with Dinho still stroking his back. He should feel good, but instead he still felt some kind of tension running through his spine. 

Maybe it was because he was realizing that he was, again, alone with Sylvy, Dinho and Deco, as the first night, when everything started.

But this time nobody seemed angry with him, so it should be ok.

Nevertheless, he could feel the gaze of Deco, sit on the other side of the sofa, and Leo hated when people stared at him.

“I was wondering if you could give me another present. Something really special,” he finally burst out.

Leo frown, not getting what he meant, but he could hear Dinho giggling next to him. “I am afraid it’s too late for it.”

“What?” Deco asked.

“What?” Leo echoed, not getting what Dino meant.

"Ops, I am sorry!” Dinho said him, but he was still giggling, so Leo guessed he was not very sorry. In any case, he could not see what for he should be. 

“Hang on, are we all talking about the same thing?” Sylvy intervened, entering in the room with another mug of coffee.

“Which thing?” Leo questioned, looking alternatively the three man.

“He was, with you, as well?”Sylvy added. 

“What?!” this time Deco yelled, and Leo flinched in the arms of Dinho. He was still looking around, searching for an explanation. He felt as he lost the last five minutes of conversation and was starting to feel reckless.

But then Deco reached out and grabbed his arm demanding all the attention of Leo.

“So basically you have been the whore of the entire team but me?”

“What? NO! I…” Leo moved from Dinho and scrambled back on the sofa, curling into himself. He looked at Sylvy in panic. 

That day, when they were alone in the changing room and _that_ had happened, Sylvy had told him that if people had known about what they had done together they would have called him a whore, and they would have alleged that he was in the first team only because of that. 

Clearly Sylvy was right, because now Deco, even Deco, his friend, was telling that. Leo was on the edge of freaking out.

But then the soothing touch of Dinho on his arms was back and Leo calmed a little bit, leaning against him. 

“Now, there is no reason to be so mean,” he said.

“No reason?” Deco replied. “I just discovered that he was going hooking around, and keeping me completely unaware. You were supposed to be my friend,” he said, moving his gaze to Leo “And you had secrets with me. And you denied yourself to me, who cares you so much”

“No… I…” he stuttered.

“I am sure our little Leo had his reasons, hadn’t you?” Dinho said, and Leo looked at him confused, because really, no, he had no secret plans.

“Maybe he wanted just to make you a surprise.” Sylvy added leaning his elbows on the seatback behind Deco.

“Something really special.” Dinho continued.

“And what could he do for me that he hasn’t done before?” Deco spat, unimpressed.

“Well, it’s not that he did so much before, didn’t he?” Dnho asked to Sylvy.

“No, he confirmed,” he was more like accepting whatever.

“Bu he can actually DO things for you, for your birthday, can’t you?”

“Oh, I am sure that this is what he was planning from the beginning, and that’s why he staid here so late, waiting for be just only us”.

 

“What?! What can I do?” Leo asked, beyond confusion.

“See, he is offering himself!” Sylvy commented.

“No, I just don’t… Ouch!” Leo looked down at his waist, where he had been pinched, and then reproachfully at Dinho. But the other wasn’t impressed, as he leant down and hissed him into his ear. 

“Stop it. Didn't you get it already? The more you make people angry, the worse it is for you?” 

Leo felt physically hit. His gaze run among the three man as he felt tears stinging the sides of his eyes.

He didn’t want to make people angry. He had never wanted to but apparently he had always managed to do so. 

He didn’t want people to hurt him either. The fact that he was able to bear pain well didn’t mean that he liked it. He preferred to be cuddled. He liked when he could curl into the arms of people. 

Lionel unconsciously leant against Dinho, following his own thoughts, but then he looked at Deco. He was the one that was about to be angry, and Leo should dedicate his attention to him. 

“What do you want me to do?” He asked again, and this time he meant it.

 

Deco smirked as he put the glass of the cocktail on the tea table. He sat on the angle of the large L-sofa, removing his shoes of and leaning back on the headboard, with the legs spread almost to the point where Leo and Dinho were sitting.

Leo followed all his his movement waiting for a reply.

“I want you to take your clothes off.” He finally said.

Leo should have known. 

“Do you want to have sex with me?” He asked with a small voice.

The laugh that the three man exploded sounded muffled in the ears of Leo, covered by his own heartbeat. 

“Yes, Leo, this is what we are talking about for like, hours.” Deco was rolling his eyes, so Leo guessed that he had been being dumb again.

A soft pat on his back made him almost jump, as tense as he was. He looked back, to see Dinho smiling reassuringly. He nodded, and Leo sighed, bending down to untying his shoes.

But when his hands were moving at the buttons of his trousers he was interrupted by Deco.

“Look at me, Leo”

He looked up to see Deco grinning. Sylvy still behind the coach, was smiling too, biting his lower lip. And then there were the hands of Dinho on Leo’s hips, lifting him on his knee.

“Come on, it’s not fair to make the birthday boy to wait.”

 

He removed his sweater, hair messing all around his head. But his fringe now over his eyes was not thought enough not to see how Deco and Sylvy were staring at him. 

He had never felt so vulnerable. But still he knew that he couldn’t hesitate or they would be upset again, so he fumbled about his jeans, still maintaining the gaze in front of him.

Due to the position he struggled to remove his trousers and underwear, balancing on one leg at time, but the hands of Dinho were hot on his waist, keeping him in place.

The chest of Deco was lifting because of the deep breathing he was now taking, and Leo could felt tdhe hoarse breathing of Dinho behind himself. 

“Come here.” Deco invited, grabbing his bare arm. 

Leo crawled through the couch, until (??) he was sat on the lap of Deco.

“Now take _my_ clothes off.” 

Leo floundered on the shirt, not used to the position of unbuttoning it for someone else. The process was interrupted by a movement caught from the side of his eyes that distracted him. Leo looked up, over Deco: Sylvy had grabbed his own couch, the hand pressing with circular movementsd

“Keep going, Leo,” the voice of Deco brought him back to his task but his hands were trembling more.

When he leaned further to slip the shirt over his shoulders, he jumped as Deco grabbed his ass.

“Mmm, so perfect. You are really made for this.”

Leo felt suddenly shy and retracted himself, sitting back on his tights with the fist on his own chest.

“Oh no, don’t stop now.” Deco said, gripping his hands and putting them on his couch. 

Leo could feel his bulge, hot and pulsing, under the layer of his pant. That was not helping him at all. He was scared of what it was hidden. He knew he would face some aspects of Deco he would have never wanted to know. There will be pain, and sweat, pants, hands all over, and the smell, _that_ smell that would make him choke for days.

Instinctively Leo tried to close his legs, but he the result was that he only pressed tighter. his thighs against Deco’s legs, the fabric of his trousers brushing his soft skin.

“I am scared,” he breathed.

“You made me a promise Leo.” Deco was caressing his cheek, but the tone of his voice was harsh.

And then there were other hands, over his hips, and Dinho was whispering on his hear from behind: “That’s not the little lion that I know. My Leo would never let the fear to beat him. 

And you don’t want to make Deco angry, don’t you?” He added lower, so that only Leo could have heard him.

“And you are being so good, Leo.” The tone of Deco’s voice was sweeter now, has his hand, stroking his biceps.

Leo tried to relax at the soft touch, but still opening Deco’s trousers was hard. Furthermore, the tears that were pooling into his eyes were not helping him.

Leo shivered when he finally managed to lower Deco trousers and underwear. His cock slipped out already hard and red and Leo quacked pondering its thickness. 

The hands of Deco were now wandering all over his body. They were soothing in a way, as the mantra of “So good” that Deco was going on repeating. 

Dinho had been right. As long as he didn’t like it there was no point of panicking. It was something that he already done. The pain had not been unbearable, and the rest… he could cope with the rest. And all he had to do was calming down and do what he knew he had to do.

If nothing else, Leo had always been a good learner. He remembered what Sylvy and Dinho did to him.

“Do you have some lube?” He asked, then, and Sylvy appeared a tube.

Leo sighed as he sat again astride Deco, opening the container. He deliberately ignored the gazes upon him and focus on what he was doing. 

The substance was cold on his skin and Lionel hesitated a second looking at the glint of his finger. He sighed again, as he leaned one hand on Deco’s shoulder to bend and direct his hand over his own back.

He indulged on the hole, massaging it, to the point that he left all the lube he had on his finger there. That was something that neither Sylvy nor Dinho had done, but he realised that it would be just better for him. 

Lionel added some other lube on his finger and this time he slowly proceeded into the entrance. He heard a hiss when he inserted his finger, he didn’t know from whom of the three men. In fact, he decided that to maintain some sanity, it was better to close his eyes and not to look at what was happening around him.

“I can’t believe he is doing it.”

“Sshhh!”

Lionel decided to ignore the voices, to ignore the perception of the arousal of Deco rubbing his tights. He just needed to feel what he was doing. Since this time he was the one doing it, he wanted to feel at least the least pain as possible.

As a matter of fact, he didn’t feel pain: his middle finger moved smoothly into him and Leo breathed a sigh of relief. He moved it in and out a couple of times to set at the sensation. It was a bit strange and he felt as his body was twisting to fit, but Leo couldn’t say that there was pain. Definitively, doing by himself was better. 

But Leo knew that that was the easiest part. When he felt the comfiest, he decided it was time to add the second finger. 

He opened his eyes again to pour the lube on his middle and index fingers, but he shuddered at the predatory grin of Deco.

“You are so great, Leo. So great.”

He was palming his hips, but Leo didn’t acknowledge him, focusing his entire attention on what he was doing. He didn’t want to think about Deco and what he was going to do with him. For that moment it was only by himself and he want to last the sensation of having the control of the situation. Having control has always been something that had calmed him a lot and he needed at that moment more than any other time.

He closed his eyes and began again massaging himself before introducing the two fingers. Taking his time worked again, and Leo was careful pushing, scissoring, massaging until he could feel himself opening more and more ready to accept. 

He looked down, at the erection of Deco, and gulped deciding that yes, he could do it. But somehow, his look should have switched something in Deco, because suddenly he grabbed him, forcing him against his body.

“Come on Leo! You are killing me!”

Leo gasped and froze, the mood completely changed. He was starting to panic again, but suddenly the hands were removed. It has been Silvy: he had blocked the arms of Deco behind him, over the headboard.

“Let him go, he is doing so great.” The words were for Deco, but his sight was fixed on Leo, the mouth watering. 

“He is killing me,” Deco repeated, but he didn’t struggle to escape the grip.

“I am sorry.” Leo lowered in himself, mortified. He did not know exactly what he was doing, he was far from being an expert in those things, and of course he was being bad. He realised that he was being much slower than Dinho or Sylvy, but this was so much better for him. But, yet, of course, not for Deco. 

It was Dinho the one who interrupted his train of thoughts, shushing him from behind. 

"Don’t be sorry. You are really doing great, Leo.”

“Yeah, I am sorry,” Deco said, “he is right you are being good. Only, please, continue.”

Leo nodded, looking down at the erection of Deco. He knew he could do it. It appeared to him bigger and threatening every second on, but he knew he could do it, he just has to be calm. He raised his sight to look at Deco in the eyes, caressing his arms. “I just… I need to be slow, please. Is it ok for you?”

“Yes Leo, just go on!”

Leo nodded again and then held his breath while slowly going down and down for all the length of Deco. Only when he stopped he convinced himself to breath again, to try to calm down. That was it: he had taken the measure, it couldn’t be worse than it. 

It was not even painful, only a bit strange. But this thought made Leo to realise that he was _getting used to it_. He shook his head trying not to ruminate too much about the implications of what he was doing. Instead, he looked up in front of him where Deco and Silvy were both staring at him as they wanted to eat him.

Deco still had the arms blocked and it was obvious that he was making an effort not to move, but Leo could feel the impatience he had in the way his cock was pulsing inside him.

“You are so good.” Leo felt something stroking his hair and turn his head. Dinho was looking at him smiling “such a good boy.”

“It would be better if he moves, I am swear I am going to hmmff”

Sylvy tapped the mouth of Deco with his hand but Lionel was feeling that Deco had started to move grinding into him. 

“Yes, Leo, move.” Dinho said, still caressing his head.

Leo nodded and pinned himself on the shoulders of Deco and lift a bit, before going down again.

“Yesss.” Leo couldn’t have guessed who said that.

He continued to move again and again, every time with a longer ride. It was just like a physical exercise, or that was what Leo would have liked to think. He could focus on the movement, on the effort of the muscles of his thighs

He could pretend that the smell of sweater was the same he could smell on the pitch, even though on the pitch there was not this aftertaste of alcohol, coffee and sex. But Leo could swear to himself that he was able to focus enough on the movement, he could almost forget the feeling of being invaded, the burn at the entrance of his abused hole and the dull pain at the base of his belly, and maybe even the moans and grunts he was hearing. 

Maybe it could have worked, if only Deco hadn’t eventually pinned the coach with his feet and began to trust into him, as well, the finally free hand grabbing strongly his hips. 

Leo gasped. He had lost control and he didn’t like it. Nevertheless, he felt discomfort, put not exactly pain. For sure, not that horrible feeling of being split in two of the first times.

Once again, Leo got that he was getting used to it, as Sylvy had foresaw the first time they had done that. But, for some kind of reason, Leo was realising that maybe, for some reason, he would have preferred to feel that pain, rather than that strange feeling he felt.

 

“Oh, yes, Leo, look at me.” Deco rasped.

Leo looked down to Deco but he couldn’t properly see his face because from that position he had the eyes covered by his hair. Lionel decided in that very moment that he would grow his hair. 

He could feel now hand stroking all over his body. Deco had been released by Sylvy, but maybe they were Dinho’s hands, or Sylvy’s himself. Lionel couldn’t guess and he didn’t care. 

Eventually the movements of Deco were more erratic and Leo felt like a ragdoll, completely at the mercy of him. It reminds him when he was a little kid and his grandmother used to make him to jolt on his knee. And that thought was even more painful of the physical pain that he was not feeling. Because he wanted to feel the same, to feel safe and protected.

He dropped down, grabbing the neck of Deco (buried his face into the hollow of his shoulder). He brushed in his neck, savouring the salty savour of his sweaty skin, desperately looking for a gentle touch. Looking for love.

But there was not any kindness in the way Deco grab his legs spreading them and push inside deeper and deeper. 

And still, Leo couldn't know if it was the change of position, or maybe it was his own dick brushing the belly of Deco but his body was unexpectedly reacting to the stimulation and a sense of urgency growing inside his guts.

Deco’s grip didn’t leave him so much space for action, but Leo find himself unconsciously trying to push forward, seeking for a further contact with the other. 

But soon Deco came with a strangled scream, and everything stopped. There was no more movement, nor moans. The hands of Deco were now lazing resting over Leo’s ass and his cock was softening in his hole, and as the dense liquid slid over his entrance.

Leo felt confused by the sudden stillness. He remained embraced to Deco with closed eyes, the body lifting up and down following the rhythm of the heavy breath of Deco.

And Leo was grateful that everything had finished, and that he hadn’t felt pain, nevertheless it was like he couldn’t properly control his body, that was still pressing against Deco.

But then there were other hands, grabbing his hips and lifting him from behind and Leo found his back pressed on another naked body

“Dinho?” He murmured.

“Shhh… relax…” The touch of his humid lips over his neck sent shivers over the spine of Leo and and so his hands wondering over his torso did. “You have been such a good boy. Always so good with us.”

Leo flinched when Dinho pinched one of his nipples, that was getting painfully hard.

“You deserve a little bit of attention, as well, don’t you?”

“I don’t… I…ah!”

The vision of Leo blanked as he felt the hand of the other curling around his cock.

“I just want you to feel good. You want it right?”

“No, I don’t… I want…” Leo really wanted to say that he wanted only to be left alone, and be brought at home, and curled in his bed sheets, but his body was stating the very opposite, laying his weight back against Dinho. 

“Wait,” Deco grunted, “I want to film him.” He pitched forward grabbing the mobile on the tea table.

“Can you wait, Leo?” Dinho teased as he stroked the head of Leo’s dick with his thumb.

“Oh!” He jumped at the gestures and could feel the blood draining his body to concentrate on his cheeks and his lower parts.

“Yes,” he kissed his ear, the warm breath vibrating through Leo’s backbones. “I am going to give you whatever you want. I am going to give you everything.”

Leo shift has he felt the pressure of the erection of Dinho pressing against his back, but Dinho’s grip on his chest was keeping him in position and his other hand was distracting him, lazily stroking his staff. And then, Dinho was into him, with one fluid movement.

The gasp of surprise changed into a moan as Dinho started to move. It was so different that time. Dinho was grinding slowly and then pushing carefully adjusting him at each trust to follow Leo’s reaction, to find the angle that was making him arching more for the pleasure. And his hand was doing such a good work on his cock, with the right pressure and the right path.

Leo shook his head, as denying what he was feeling, but he couldn’t escape the presence of Dinho all over him.

“Just relax, baby,” he said between kisses on his neck, “I promised you that I was going to make you feel good.” 

Leo shook his head again, and he could feel tears over the edges of his eyes. He  
was completely lost. He was feeling too much, and too many things. He should be happy, and yet he felt disgusted for no reason, and yet he could feel his entire body vibrating for pleasure. He _should_ be happy and the only thing he wanted was for everything stop, but his body just wanted more and more.

“Oh, Leo, you are moving so well, you are perfect.” Deco said, his voice rough. 

He _was_ moving, and Leo hadn’t even realised that. He wasn’t too overwhelmed by too many sensations that he was losing the sense of the reality. 

The feeling of the cock inside him, and of the hand around him were driving him crazy, and then there was the sound of the slapping meat, the moans, everything was too loud in Leo’s ears. The smell of sweat and of sex was so strong that he could taste it at the back of his mouth.

Leo felt down on his arms, his head spinning. But soon there was a hand pulling his hair and forcing his face up. Leo’s visual was fill by the cock of SIlvy, just a few centimetres from his face. Only at that moment Leo realised that the other had reached them on the sofa, kneeling in front him.

“Suck it Leo. I know you want to suck something now, don’t you?”

Lea realised only that moment that he was, indeed, salivating, sucking his own tongue. A hardest trust pushed him a little above and there was the voice of Silvy, repeating in a more commanding tone “Suck it!”.

So Leo closed his eyes and grabbed the legs of Silvy, closing his lips around the head of his cock. And he might not like how big it was in his month, or how bitter the precome tasted, but, again, his body seemed to move against any logic, as he swirling his tongue around the glans still managing to moan. He was rewarded by the big hand of Sylvy caressing the back of his head.

“Fucking yes, I am going to jerk off on this for years.” The voice of Deco was more and more distant in Leo’s head as the rhythm of Dinho was trusting harder into him. Soon Leo moans were substituted by an actual shout, and the cock of Silvy slipped out of his mouth, living a humid trail over his chin. 

Silvy’s grip over his hair lost all its kindness and Leo whined in pain.

“Don’t force him!,” Dinho rasped from behind. “I want him to like it.” The words were stressed by a thrust right on Leo prostate that caused another shout from Leo, as he throw back his head.

“Alright, I’m just going to give some more make up for the Deco’s film.”

Leo had still his mouth agape has Silvy came, spilling all over his face while cheered by Dinho and Deco.

Leo flinched for the surprise, but Dinho didn’t give any time to process what happened, as he drove him up against his chest again, exposing him completely to the Deco’s mobile.

“Stay up, Leo. Let us watch you how much you like it!”

“Dinho…” Any strength for protesting had been drained away, left by the compliance of being manoeuvred, completely boneless. 

“Because you like it, right?” Dinho pinched his right nipple with the hand that was supporting him over his chest, as Leo needed more stimulation. “Because this is what you are, Leo. You are a slut who likes to be fucked by us.”

Leo didn’t understand why at that point Dinho was insulting him. He had done whatever they wanted, he had tried to be good. 

But then Dinho gave a frank thrust hitting that spot, and Leo couldn’t help but moaning. Slutty. So Leo’s mind registered that maybe Dinho had been right, after all. And then, there was no space for thinking, the sensations becoming too overwhelming.

“Come on, Leo,” Dinho panted, the voice on the edge, but the hand still screwing faster over his already dripping cock. “I want you to come now. Come for us Leo.”

Leo bite his lower lip, tasting the savour of Silvy as he felt his cock pulsing. At the very last moment Dinho removed his hand off and when Leo came with a cry he was completely off show for the camera of Deco.

His head was swirling, and he felt down on his elbow, exhausted, and sheepishly let Dinho continue to use his body as he was still shouting at him.

“This is your role in the team, little champion. This is what you do, what you are. You are here just for us.” He spanked him and Leo yelped in pain, more for the words than for the gesture.

But then, Dinho was right: he liked it. And, yet, he couldn’t help but crying burying his head into his crossed arms, lost in the confusion of what is happening to him.

After Dinho finally came with a grunt, there was a moment of stillness, when the only sounds in the room were the Dinho’s recovering breath and the quite sobs of Leo.

But then there was a hand stroking his hair, and the voice of Silvy speaking softly. “Don’t cry now, you like to be our good boy, don’t you?”

Leo nodded, but he couldn’t manage to lift his head, or to stop crying.

“And you have been so good, tonight,” Dinho said softly, slipping out of him with a hand spread over his spine.

It was Deco the one who lifting him, grabbing his forearm “We like you, that’s why we are doing this to you.”

Leo nodded again, and let him brushed aside of his forehead a lock of sweaty hair.

“Look, Leo, I am hard again. This is what you do to us. I want you again,” he said, as he gently pushed him on his back. 

Leo wide opened his eyes, but he was incapable of protesting.

“Come one, give him some rest I just gave him the most blowing mind orgasm.” Dinho chuckled, as stroke his hair “Didn’t I?” 

Lionel didn’t reply. He was tired, that is for sure. Too tired even to fight back, or to think. He suddenly realised that he was thirsty. He slipped the tongue on his chapped lips and tasted again the savour of Sylvy.  
Deco pupils widened as looking at his gesture. 

“I don’t care. It’s my birthday, and Leo is going to give me whatever I want, don’t you?.”

Leo closed his eyes. He was too tired even for thinking, and he didn’t care anymore.

“As you want. Don’t break him.” Dinho lifted from the couch. “I need a beer.”

Lionel was covered again by Deco’s body. He was staring the ceiling, uninvolved, while the other lifted his legs and thrust into him again. Lionel didn’t care. He was beyond the pain, beyond the shame. He simply didn’t care.

He didn’t care for that day on. Every time one of the three wanted him, or all the three altogether, he didn’t care. He didn’t care if they wanted to fuck his ass, or his month, or both. If they wanted to film him. If they wanted to make him shout out of coming.

When Barça decided to renew completely the squad and to sell Dinho, Deco and Sylvy, Lionel wasn’t even relieved. Of course he wasn’t sorry, neither. He simply didn’t care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual. I am not English native speaker, please let me know if there are any mistake. Thank you for reading, commenting and leaving kudos. You give me the strength to go on!


	9. Happy Birthday (II)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Leo thought he had a present, but he didn’t.

Cristiano looked down at the suit on his bed, biting his nail before tossing it over a pile of already rejected suits. 

He looked at his watch. There was still plenty of time before his birthday party, but his hair still needed to be adjusted and that required a lot of time. And in that moment came the unexpected ring of the doorbell that almost made him bite his own middle finger off.

He grumbled loudly through all the way to the entrance of his house and was ready to shout to whoever was there when opened the door.

“Happy birthday!”

“Leo?!”

Cristiano thought he was just dreaming. Leo was there bringing a bag with him, in his usual oversize clothes and mussed hair, a bright smile that was revealing all his dimples. What was less usual was that shade of pink over his cheeks, and the glassy eyes, but Cristiano couldn’t have notice them, right at that moment.

“I though you were… you said you couldn’t come.” He managed to stutter after a while.

“Surprise!”

Cristiano was actually beyond surprise when he had to catch Leo jumping at him to kiss him. And the smell was the crack in Cristiano’s dream.

“Have you drunk?”

Leo shifted so badly that Cristiano was forced to keep him in place grabbing his hips.

“I needed to,” he admitted biting his lower lip.

Cristiano rubbed his hands over the fabric of Leo’ clothes, still trying to convince himself that he was there, in front of him. “You needed to? What for?” he frowned.

Leo just shrugged and leaned again towards Cristiano lifting on his toes. “Surprise!” he breathed again before depositing another light kiss on his cheek.

And Cristiano was still trying to recover from the shock of both having Leo and having Leo so touchy when he noticed the other scrutinizing him with unfocused gaze.

“I didn’t know that you wear glasses.”

Cristiano rolled his eyes. “You know, I was actually thinking of making the laser surgery.”

“But why? They are cute! And your hair!” Leo lift further to the point that Cristiano was forced to prop against the wall to sustain Leo’s weight. “I love your curls! They are cute too!

“Well, cute is not really the image of myself that I would like to give,” Cris tried to protest.

“You are cute,” Leo stated, fixing him in the eyes in a way that was so unusual for him and that was making Cristiano so aware of the body pressed against himself.

But all of a sudden his mood switched as his body moved away and a frown appear on Leo’s face.

“Ah! Now I remember! I got a cake!” He beamed. 

He almost hit Cristiano offering the bag. “You can’t have a birthday without a cake! Happy birthday!”

And then he giggled and step aside.  
“Sofa,” he declared, raising his hand, and moved away.

His attempt to walk across the corridor, though, was a very bad one. Cristiano watched horrified Leo swinging badly a couple of times before actually stumbling on his own feet and falling down.

“Leo!” He was there in one stride managing in some way to carry him despite the bag was cumbering him. 

"Leo, are you okay? Have you sprained your ankles?” He couldn’t hide the worrying in his voice. How Leo could be so elegant and confident on a pitch and helplessly goofy without a ball at his feet would always be a mystery for Cristiano. Alcohol was not improving the situation, for sure.

But Leo did nothing but chuckling and Cristiano should have felt only relief, but instead he could sense anger raising.

“Seriously? Couldn’t it be the most stupid way to get an injury? Aren’t you able to take care of yourself?”

“I am okay,” he chanted, and then he leaned forward, resting his forehead om Cris’ shoulder. “I am ok,” he murmured more gently.

Cris couldn’t help but yield hugging him back. At least Leo was that kind of drunk: happy and touchy. It could be worse, really. “Alright, let’s be ok in a more comfortable place than the floor.” He muffled in his soft hair.

Cristiano maneuvered him up and to the sofa not without difficulty: as tiny as Leo was, he was putting no effort in the action, limiting himself to twitter again. 

Cristiano’s hands were still on Leo shoulders, as he couldn’t really trust that he could stay without help. He could feel his muscles moving as the other turn to the bag. 

“Cake!” He repeated again.

Cristiano looked at the sweet with wide eyes “Is it… That’s not possible! It’s a Tarta Madeira! Where did you find that? Have you actually flown to Madeira to take it.”

Leo chocked again and the shade of red on his cheeks darkened. “I made it.” He admitted grabbing the knife from the bag and cutting a piece for Cristiano.

“You… Oh, you fantastic human being!”

“You said you missed it and I made it,” he explained to an overemotional Cris. 

He didn’t even remember when he said that he missed that specific tart that he used to eat when he was a small kid sneaking in the house of his grandma after trainings seeking for some sweet that were never missing. 

Once again Cristiano was surprised by how much attention Leo could dedicate to small details. And then, he had forgotten something that Cristiano clearly stated very often, as that is the fact that he hated drunk people.

He sighed and gave a little bite to the cake and in that very moment he decided that he wanted to marry him. “This is delicious.”

Leo laughed. But then Cristiano noticed how his eyes were fixed on his lips, his pupils darkening.

“You are so beautiful” he murmured in a low voice as he brushed his cheekbones with his fingers.

“Leo?”

“You use lenses and gel and your eyebrows… But you are so beautiful. Like for real.” He was rambling but Cristiano felt the intensity of his gaze over him as he was section in him, studying every little details.  
His index was pointing at his mole and Cristiano smiled grabbing his fingers and and kissing his knuckles. Definitely a touchy drunk.

“I don’t know how you can stay with me?” He giggled, but Cristiano wasn’t liking where this was going.

He cupped his face and frankly looked a him in the eyes “Hey, I like you ok? You are beautiful, and cute, and the sweetest human being.” That made Leo laugh, but it was hard to understand if it was out of happiness or disbelief.

“You even cooked the most delicious cake I could wish for for my birthday!” Cristiano continued, and Leo leaned closer biting his lower lip.

“I wanted to make you happy. I want to make you happy,” Leo said, looking down, as his cheeks reddened. “I would do everything for you.” He added as a whisper.

Cristiano stay still, with his hands still on Leo’s face and no idea of what to do. Leo has never talked to him like this and he looked so beautiful and fragile that Cristiano could only contemplate him, scared that any movement would break the moment apart.

So it was Leo the one who crossed the distance and kissed him with determination. Even if Cristiano was surprised again by the current attitude of Leo, he soon let it go, melting in the sloppy kiss as his hands were playing with strains of Leo’s hair.

Everything would be just perfect if only the savour in Cristiano mouth wasn’t what he recognised with not only alcohol but also something strong, some kind of spirit probably. It was making him gaggling, but then he was taken off-guard again. Because maybe that was not the first time that Leo kissed him, but for sure that was the first time that he palmed his groin, without any hesitation.

The consequently grunt of Cristiano was inevitable, but there was still that wrong note on the back of his mind.

He managed to move back with difficulty, and gently pushed away his hand, tangling his fingers with Leo's. The vision of Leo still leaning toward him with his closed eyes and half open mouth was sending signals to Cristiano’s lower zones that were difficult to ignore, but he was determined in his purpose.

“Leo, you are drunk,” he said, gently but firmly as he brushed his cheek.

Leo narrowed his eyes, tilting his head. “I know. I need it to have sex with you,” he stuttered.

“What?!” Cristiano jumped back. He knew he was probably looking very stupid, with his mouth wide open, but what he had just heard was too wrong on too many levels.

“Why… What make you think that I would like to have sex with you in this conditions?” 

Leo fell on one side, leaning against the header of the sofa, as if he couldn’t stay still anymore.

“You don’t want this?”

“No? What makes you think think so, when you should know that… Well, and do you think it would be fair to do it now that you don't even know what you're doing after all the time we waited for it?” He could have also added the smell, but he didn’t want to rub it in. 

“I know what I am doing,” he singsonged, messing with his own hair.

“Oh, really? So, is this what you are used to? You only had sex when you were drunk?”

The frown was still on Leo’s face and he took some time to reply, as he was calling back his memory.

“No, not always.”

“Then what makes you think that with me… You know what? Forget it.” 

Cristiano raised from the sofa with a grunt. “I need to get ready for the party.

Leo's attempt to grab him failed as he leaned over and fell on the sofa. It could have been cute, but instead Cristiano grimaces in disgust.

“Cristiano!”

“What?”

“I am sorry. I am trying so hard with you,” he mumbled. “I don’t know…”

“You're trying the wrong way,” he cut him off. Maybe too sharply, but it couldn’t prevent it. He almost regretted his tone, though, when he saw the wound expression on Leo’s face, and how he closed his eyes, curling into himself. 

“I’ll go away. I just… Can I stay here for a while? I feel so tired,” his voice so small that it was hard to hear him.

“You can stay here as long as you want, you know that,” Cristiano sighed, already giving up to Leo. “You can wait for me here if you don’t feel like coming to the party. We can talk later,” he offered and he hated how expectant he sounded.

“No, I need to go back home. I have a charter in three hours,” he muffled with his mouth against a pillow.

“Right. Of course.” And he shouldn’t be disappointed, really, because that was what had always been happening since he met Leo. He was always placing himself in the safe zone, up in an unreachable tower. Unless he was drunk, apparently. Too bad that Cristiano had no intention of touching someone who couldn't even take a few steps without falling down. 

“Well, rest here while I get ready, then.”

“Mmmm…” Leo leaned down, already non verbal.

 

Ten hours later, Cris collapsed on another sofa, in the disco he had chosen for his party. He had danced all night long, and had been very close to try alcohol as well. But still, he couldn’t forget Leo. Cris shook his head and take a sip of his cocktail.

Leo had already go, of course. The goodbye kiss that they had was chaste and awkward and it shouldn’t be like this, really. Leo had deserved better. Cristiano couldn’t not see the effort he had put to make him happy. Making a cake… that had been so adorable. But Cristiano though that he deserved better, as well. Better than _making an effort_ to fuck him.

A sudden movement in the air distracted him: someone has sat close and when Cristiano turned his head he could recognised in the dim light the figure of Sergio Ramos.

“What’s wrong, mate? It is your birthday: you are not allowed to sulk,” he slurred out of alcohol.

Cristiano studied his open, smiling face, considering how crazy would have been to talk to him. His confidant, to one who could really sooth him was Ricky, but he couldn’t really feel like talking about his –non existent, admittedly- sexual life with someone who voted for chastity until the marriage.

Nevertheless, his thoughts right at the moment were so cloudy and contradicted that he really need to verbalise them, to give them some logic.

But how bad of an idea it had been was clear when Sergio burst out of laughing.

"So, let me summing up. She drunk off her arse to be with you?” The bastard was even wiping out tears from the edge of his eye. Cristiano grunted, unable to find the funny part on his story. 

When Sergio managed to put himself together, he said “Do you think… I mean…” He took a sip from his glass. “ok, she is obviously attached to you but are you one hundred per cent sure that she is really into you?” 

And then he burst out of laugh again. “Oh, my God, sorry. But you should really have seen your face. Yes, I am afraid that this is a possibility even with you, you know?”

"Just fuck off, man!” He jumped off the sofa, ignoring Ramos who was yelling to come back. He had enough of drunk men and their silliness. But still, his words were sinking deep inside him. 

And the next time he could see Leo again would be during the Classico. Cristiano already knew it would be a disaster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From this chapter on the story will be only focused on Cris and Leo. No more flashbacks. As always, thank you for the support. It gives me life!


	10. What is love? (Baby don't hurt me)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Cristiano may have done the biggest mistake of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I was (am) very insecure about this chapter. But I can't go on mulling it forever, so here it is, as it is. Please let me know what you think about it :)

CHAPTER 10

 

It was a disaster. But the proportions of that disaster were unimaginable even for Cristiano.

They lost, of course. Lionel Messi, the alien, the genius, the Messiah, scored, of course.

Just for once Cristiano was the one tempted not to see Leo, and fuck the entire world. He was sure that Leo would understand. Oh, he would understand so well any little excuse to stay away that the idea made Cristiano even angrier, and just for this reason, he decided that he wanted to meet him anyway.

He obviously understood, in his own way, as usual, because when he stepped inside Cristiano's house, his soft voice had no particular hesitation when he spoke.

“I am happy you're not angry with me. I would have been if I were you.”

“Yeah, well…” He could have stressed that this was what was expected in an adult relationship. Or that at least one of them should have been ready to forget bad performances or they were never going to meet, but Leo was tilting his head with a questioning look and Cristiano was on the edge of a headache even without starting an argument, so he nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders.

But still, Cristiano watched Leo walking to the kitchen and he remembered how he had stared at his back while Leo was walking out of the pitch, embraced by his teammates, celebrated as a hero, radiating happiness while Cristiano was left behind, to turn all those “I should have done” over his mind.

Leo grabbed a coke that was in the fridge just for him. There was no way Cristiano would drink fatty high sugar drinks, but wondered if Leo had ever noticed that. Hardly, he concluded. And it was completely useless to continue sulking as well, because Leo would have never noticed a passive aggressive behaviour. So Cris sighed and sat on the couch, waiting for Leo.

But after that everything seemed to be much better. They ordered some food, and although Cristiano wasn’t one hundred percent convinced that he could eat pizza, he had to admit that it tasted devilishly good. Plus, the trash-TV they were watching had nothing to do with football and that was good as well. It was even better when Leo leaned closer and rested his head on Cristiano's chest. 

Leo’s hair still smelled like shampoo and Cristiano was overly conscious of his weight against him, and of the warmth radiating from his body. He cautiously moved his arm to embrace his slim body.

Leo hummed happily before turning his head up to nuzzle Cris’ neck, a hand open on his chest, causing a trail of shivers that run down Cristiano's spine straight to his lower parts.

“Leo,” he called him, his voice lower than he had intended. 

Leo looked up to him with his big, deep eyes, his tongue peeking out as he bit his lower lip and Cris simply couldn’t stop himself from bending down and kissing him.

And Leo was so pliant as he let himself be manoeuvred back on the sofa while Cristiano turned over him, being so careful to hold himself up on his arms so not to crush him.

“Leo,” he repeated and he just raised his hand to caress his locks back, still timid, red blush all over his cheeks.

Cristiano grunted as he deepened the kiss, interlacing their bodies and their tongues. He deserved this. He fucking deserved this moment, with Leo gasping his name, clinging to his body to the point of leaving marks. He wanted him so much. He wanted to be happy, to forget the match, forget his doubts on their relationship, let everything go and just live off the feeling of their bodies moving together.

Until Leo fidgeted under him. 

When Cristiano moved up just enough to check down at him, Leo took advantage of the little space to scrambled away, leaving a puzzled Cristiano behind, still on his arms and legs. His voice was a mixture of frustration and incredulity when he asked what was the problem. 

“I… I got to go,” Leo replied stuttering, running his fingers through his hair.

“What? Where?”

“I… ehm… I booked an hotel and… I can’t be to late to check in…” he admitted hesitantly while playing with his long sleeves.

That had to be joke. He couldn’t be serious. But Leo wasn’t really the joking type, and he wasn’t even daring to look at him, moving uncomfortably on the sofa.

"Why?" Cristiano asked with a dangerously calm voice, sitting back on his thighs.

No intelligible sound came from Leo, who was moving more and more uncomfortably. That movement was so typical of him, and Cristiano realised how much he was hating it. Hating everything that was “typically Leo”. And it hurt so much, feeling that way, just after feeling so good. 

“You are avoiding me,” Cristiano accused him. “You have always been avoiding me, all this time, and you can’t even tell me why.” Cristiano sat back on the couch, with a snort. 

“It’s not that you didn't have your experiences.” He was being mean, he knew that, but he didn’t even know if those words were hurting more Leo or himself. “So,” he continued, “it’s obvious that your problem is me. You're not into me, Leo. And you don’t even have the guts to admit it,” he spat. One of the two had to say it, eventually.

The look that Leo gave him seemed to be genuinely surprised. Cristiano could swear that he even looked almost scared. How he could even? Like, seriously, how he could play the poor innocent, shocked boy card, when he was the one that had brought Cristiano to this situation. 

“No! Please, don’t,” Leo eventually cheeped, lifting his legs on the couch, bringing them close to his body. Even in that position, he was still moving, still unable to look at Cristiano.

“No? You say no? Then tell me what's the point of coming here for one hour every month and then running away? What do you want from me? You want, I don’t know… Having a coffee together, having a one-on-one match in the backyard of my house? Fine, let’s do that. But stop giving me mixed signals and have the guts to just admit it,” he repeated.

It took a while for Leo to reply, as he was pondering everything in his mind. Minutes of hesitation that were just exasperating Cristiano. He almost chocked on his own saliva when he heard Leo saying “I can have sex with you,” still not daring to look at him. It had been more a murmur to himself then everything else, and it had been hard to hear for Cristiano, but what had been even harder was understanding the meaning of those words.

“You what? What is it supposed to mean now?” 

“I can do it. Please don’t be angry, I can do it.”

"What... do you seriously think that I'm just talking about sex?” Cristiano asked in disbelief. “Do you think that if we had sex here and now, everything would be okay? That I would like to have you like this? You generously offering yourself to me just because I'm angry?”

Leo nodded. “It’s always the same. Always… My dad told me it was wrong, but it’s the same… I don’t want you to be angry… it’s worse….”

Cristiano shook his head, incredulous. “Well, your father was right. I can’t understand what you're saying, and the little I can understand sounds insane at best.”

His tone wanted to be harsh, but when –finally- Leo raised his head and his eyes met Cristiano’s, Leo looked… puzzled. 

“You don’t want it?” He asked, and still Cristiano couldn’t understand where exactly Leo was. What was his point. He was always trying to catch some little hints of what was in his mind, between his silences and those short sentences out of context. It was frustrating and tiring, and he had already had enough frustration and tiredness for one night. In addition to a bad case of a headache.

“I wanted… No… I *wished* that you wanted me, Leo! But if you don’t, this,” he gestured between them, in his last attempt of explanation, “this has no sense.” He breathed heavily. “This has no sense,” he repeated deadly, rising from the sofa. “You know what? I'm sick and tired to explain to you how human interaction works.” He made another exasperated gesture waving his arm and drop off the house. 

Cristiano hit the wheel in frustration for the umpteenth time and breathed deeply. Driving had always helped him to calm down. He remembered five years ago, when his father was sick. He would drive so much, all night long, without destination, just enjoying the night lights, and the purring of the engine. He smiled at the memory. He had ended up knowing all the side streets of Manchester better than the grumpy old men that used to wander around the city, remembering the good ol' times

He sighed deeply. Leo just required patience. A lot of patience and a lot of explanations. Cristiano wondered if he really was such a horrible person if sometimes, some days, he didn’t feel so patient. Wasn’t he allowed to have his bad days and his needs and his nervous breakdowns? Leo's obliviousness could really put the patience of a Saint to the test. Alright, he had his issues, he _understood_ that, but, for God’s sake, how was it possible that he didn’t understand anything about relationships? The thought of Leo's past relationships hunted him again. He should have known how it worked between two people.

Cristiano almost went out of the street. It took him an incredible effort to make very simple actions: to breath, to look at the mirror, to use the turn signal, to pull over. 

Suddenly even a simple action like breathing was hard, because he realised that Leo had told him _exactly_ how it had worked for him. And he had been so angry, so self centred that he simply hadn’t listened. 

Cristiano's head was so dizzy that he probably shouldn't have driven, but he had to go back, and speak to Leo. Although he hadn’t had time to go too far away, the trip back was slow, too slow compared to the tsunami of thoughts that was invading Cristiano’s mind. He passed through denial: it couldn’t be possible; he was sure it was just a big misunderstanding. But Lionel's scared look when he told him how he thought a relationship worked, was haunting Cristiano. And that would have made so much sense.

But it didn’t necessarily mean that the mysterious ex boyfriend had wanted to force Leo to have sex. Maybe it had only just been a big misunderstanding. And still, would it have changed something? When Leo looked so terrified at the idea, so convinced that this was the way a relationship… sex… worked. And then, the most disgusting thought punched Cristiano directly in his stomach: could Cristiano himself have make the same mistake? He had been so close that night. So fucking close…

 _God, please, let me be wrong. Please, please, please, let this not be true, let’s just discover that I am a paranoid_ Cristiano repeated in his head as a mantra, while he drove back to his own home. He needed to know, and still, he was so scared of a positive answer that he had to hold the wheel so tight his knuckles turned white. Nevertheless, he was about to stop once more, overwhelmed by his emotions, when he realised that maybe Leo wasn't even home anymore. It was likely, considering how he treated him. And the idea of Leo scared, deluded, alone, who knows where, was enough to make Cristiano panic. 

But the more time he spent panicking the more likely Leo would have gone, and this was enough for Cristiano to put himself back together and, finally, reach his house.

The car that Leo had hired was still in the driveway, and that was enough for Cristiano to release the breath he was holding. His head was still dizzy, though, when he entered the house. The light of the living room was still on, but Leo was nowhere to be found.

“Leo?” He called him several times, checking everywhere in the living room before uselessly moving on to all the bedrooms of the house. Leo had disappeared. And then a sudden thought crossed his mind and he run in the backyard. 

Cris had been so sure to find him there, on the football pitch. That was his natural environment, the only place where Leo was completely at ease. 

The idea was perfect, but it ended up being wrong. Cristiano hit the post maybe too hard. There was probably going to be a bruise on his hand, if not something broken, but he didn’t care because he was slowly realising that Leo could have easily left the house by foot.

He ran into the house again, heading to the bathroom. He needed to splash his face with fresh water to stop panicking and think about what his next move should be.

He turned the light on, and there Lionel was, curled next to the toilet bowl.

Cristiano should have known: Leo got sick when he was nervous. He should have known. There where too many “should have” suspended in Cristiano’s mind, as he looked down wordlessly at Leo, a little ball of messy hair in a big, crumpled shirt with long sleeves – he was always cold, that Cristiano knew. They had that in common. Once they had spent an hour outrageously discussing how their teammates had always mocked them for that. Cristiano knew so much of him. How could he have missed the most important things? _He should have known._

“Leo?” Walking to him was like walking on eggshells and trying not to break them. 

_But he had already broken what was most precious to him._

He knelt down in front of him but Leo didn’t rise his head from his crossed arms. 

Cristiano gulped and take the courage to reach for him, his hand shaking violently in the air. 

Leo could have easily been a sort of a macabre statue into Cris’ bathroom. A cold, silent, static body, even his breathing was barely perceivable. Cristiano had never wanted to hug him so bad as he did in that moment, and still, he was scared of breaking him even with the lightest touch.

With an effort he managed to grasp Leo’s shoulders, hoping that the little pressure would bring life to the still body. “Leo, please, look at me,” he pleaded.

Of course, there was no response from him, except the swinging movement that was making his body shake again. Cristiano held him by his shoulders: he couldn’t see him like that. Not again, not that evening. But that gesture only resulted in more discomfort for Leo, who was then struggling to continue to move.

Cristiano moved his hands away as he had been burnt. If Leo wanted to move, well, he had all the rights to do it. Cristiano couldn’t force him to stop. Fuck, he didn’t want to force him to do anything, he never did. And the idea that perhaps Leo had been forced… to what? He shook his head: he needed to stay focus, for Leo.

“I am so sorry, Leo.” But still, no reply, only the shaking.

“Do you want to go back to your hotel? I can drive you there, if you want,” he offered, but still without success.

Cristiano still wanted to hug him so much, but he didn’t want to constrain him again, considering the results that his last attempt had obtained. With a sigh, he decided to move on his side. 

Biting his nails as he sat there on the hard, cold floor, with the only heat coming from the body next to him, Cristiano didn’t know what to do. He took a deep breath, deciding to speak openly. At least, Leo deserved some honesty.

“I love you, Leo. I really do, even if I don’t always understand you, even if being together may be difficult, even if perhaps I don’t really know how to be a good boyfriend. At least for you.”

He glanced at him, but Leo was still with his head buried in his crossed arms. Nevertheless, Cristiano could swear that if he wasn't properly laying on him, he was seeking for the touch of his body. It was something, and this gave him the strength to go on.

“I don’t want to have sex,” he stated. “Yeah, I mean, it would be good, but it is not necessary, okay? If you don’t want to, it's okay, I swear. It’s just… I was jealous, alright? I thought that if you had it with your ex and not with me… maybe you didn’t like me as much.”

This time he didn’t dare to look at him in the face, after kicking him lightly on his feet. “You know that I think you're the only one able to make me feel so unsecure? And I bet that you don’t even realise that. That’s probably why I like you. Or this is one of the reasons. Anyway,” he sighed. “Even if this is true, I was never entitled to complain. You have to do whatever you feel like and it’s not like… no matter what I want, I cannot demand anything from you, and I am really, really sorry if I made you believe that.”

Cristiano shook is head before taking the courage to touch his hair. “Leo, has this happened in the past? Have you ever done things that you didn’t want because your ex was angry with you?” He asked gently.

And of course Leo nodded, and Cristiano felt sick again, his head spinning around, but he had to focus on Leo. He turned a little to face him and cupped his head, caressing his temples. But when he spoke, his tone had lost all the kindness.

“Who was he?” He needed a name. Just the name of that bastard that he was going to kill, no matter what.

Cristiano was almost surprised when Leo finally – finally! – spoked. His voice was still soft and quite, as usual, just a little rasping.

“Dinho at first. And then Silvy, and Deco, and then all of them went on getting angrier and angrier if I didn’t do what they want. They told me that if I cared about them I should do… things. But it was never enough, they were asking more and more, and I tried… I tried to make them happy, but then they told me that _I_ wanted that, that I was a slut, that I was in the team for that, but it wasn’t true, I swear, I just wanted… I don’t know how to make people happy, I'm sorry.”

At that point Cristiano couldn’t help but hugging him, lulling his shaken body. He felt so horrible. Because reality was even worse than his worst dreams. Because there had been _three_ bastards hurting his Leo. Because he made a quick count and that must have happened at least three years ago, when Leo had debuted. He had been so young! How could they hurt him while he was so innocent and young.

 

“None of that was your fault, okay? Leo! My sweet Leo. You are perfect, you are wonderful, and I love you so much.” He was rambling nonsense, he was aware of that, but he couldn’t stop. He didn’t even know if it was Leo who needed to hear comforting words or he who wanted to say them.

 

And then, the idea that Leo had go through all of that all alone. All these months, when Cristiano thought he was avoiding him, he was just so scared, because of what had happened to him. And Cristiano had been so fucking blind.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” He eventually asked.

Eventually Leo risen his head, just enough to peer at him, and it hurt Cristiano to see his face streaked with tears. “Because I was scared! Because I thought that if I told you you would have said ‘oh Leo, if you did this with them, then if you love me as you loved them, you should do the same with me. Open you mouth!’” 

Cristiano chocked in disbelief. He should have been offended. In fact, he was, but then, on the other hand, that was so close to what happened that night. That night, and all those months he had accused Leo of not making any effort in their relationship, and instead he was trying to fighting all these nightmares, all alone, and trying to stay with him. And now he was even blaming Leo because he didn't talk to him sooner?

“But I… I don’t know what love is, but I like being with you,” Leo continued, “more than anyone else, even more than Antonella, and I love the way you touch me, and when we kiss, it feels so good. But I am scared, I am afraid that if we… if we have sex, I'll feel disgusted and I don’t want to be disgusted by you.” 

“It’s okay, you have nothing to be ashamed for or to blame yourself for. You have never done anything wrong. Nothing wrong. Never.”

He brought him closer against his body, rocking him back and forth. It was messy and confused: Leo sobs were louder and louder, and Cristiano couldn't stop kissing him all over his head, hugging him tighter, repeating “sorry” and “I love you” over and over. It was only after several minutes that Cristiano realised that Leo had fallen asleep, like a child, exhausted after crying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are. Finally Cristiano knows, and we are heading to the end. I think there will be two or three chapters left.


	11. Sleeping Beauty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Cristiano realised that fighting against others daemons was not easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry. It took me a lot, as always, and this chapter is even short and boring :P

Perhaps sitting on the floor of a bathroom for an entire night wasn’t the stupidest thing that Cristiano had done that night. But that didn’t mean that it had been a good idea, or that was what his sore muscles were yelling at him.

For Cristiano sleeping there was impossible, but there Lionel was, peacefully laying half on his lap and half on the floor. And that was the reason why Cristiano was still there: he simply hadn’t the heart to wake him up. His soft features were so relaxed, but Cristiano couldn’t forget how some hours ago they were transfigured with troubled and despaired. What if when he awoke he would cry again, still haunted by his past? He didn’t want to see Leo crying, never again.

Cristiano switched a little to give some relief to a sore leg. But no, the discomfort was not the main reason why Cristiano couldn't sleep. His mind was spinning with concern, rage and guilt. He swiped away tears, remembering too well how his first instinct when he met Leo was to protect him. He could have never even imagined that he was three years late.

And right at that moment he simply didn’t know what to do. A part from, of course, repeating by himself for thousands times that he would never ever scare him again, even thought that could mean leaving a life of wanks.

Cristiano should have dozed off anyway at a certain point, because he woke up with a start, when a ray of light hit the corner of his eyes. The movement woke up Leo, as well, and he looked around confused, brushing his eyes, before focusing on Cris.

“What… where are we?” He asked.

“My bathroom. You passed out here last night and slept since now,” Cristiano replied with a little tense smile. He acted out of instinct, moving away some strands of Leo’s fringe looming over his confused eyes. There was always this thing in Leo that made Cristiano to want to touch him and cuddle him. “I am sorry, I should have given you a better accommodation, but I didn’t want to wake you up.”

The puzzled face of Lionel soon turned into panic with the realisation of what happened. 

“I… did I stay here all night? Oh my God, I need to tell my dad!” The way in which he struggled to find his mobile in his pocket was almost amusing, but every mocking comment about Leo’s need of keeping his father constantly informed about all of his life stuck in Cristiano’s throat.

With all that happened to Leo it was obvious that his father was overprotective. Hell, if Cristiano had tried to walk in his shoes, he would have probably lock Leo into a room in a tower a point cannons to anyone who had tried to get close.

Cristiano just stayed still, looking at Leo who walked away into the corridor talking a fast speech to his father. He didn’t know if it was the strong accent, the lack of sleep or his brain overthinking, but he couldn’t catch a word. Still sitting alone on the floor of his bathroom, Cristiano had never felt Leo so far away from him, although they were separated only by few fetes instead of half of Spain.

He shook his head, deciding that it was better for him to stop overthinking. Washing his face helped him to think straight, and to decide to occupy himself with practical tasks, such as preparing breakfast. 

Lionel reached him while he was putting the moka on the hub. He brushed his arm and looked apologetically when he talked.

“My dad wants me to leave now.”

“Not even the time for breakfast?”

Leo looked down, uncertain, and Cristiano gave up: the last thing he wanted was making him uncomfortable.

"That's ok. Do you feel like driving or do you want me to call a taxi?”

“No, that’s ok, I can drive,” he rushed to say. And then, again, there was that awkward silence.

Cristiano fought again his internal fight: he wanted to hug Leo and keep him with him forever, and at the same time he couldn’t even touching or saying him a word, scared as he was of hurting him in any way.

For once it was Leo the one who broke the silence “I… I really think I have to go. We can Skype later tonight?”

Cristiano simply nodded, still wordless. Maybe he was just tired. Too tired to think what was right and was wrong. 

There were other few moments of awkwardness before Leo lifted on his tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. 

And then he was gone, leaving Cristiano to stare his front door. He brushed a hand over his eyes before touching his cheek, where he could still feel the heat of Leo’s lips over his skin. He really needed to have a sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments and the kudos *__*. Please, let me know what you think, if though it was so short XD


	12. A friend in need

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Cris is visiting a friend. Not one of his.

It became an obsession. Cristiano spend the next days looking at old Barcelona videos, images, interviews, looking for something that could have given a hint, an explanation of what had happened. Nothing. He could find absolutely nothing and there were certain moments were Cristiano thought that maybe it was all a big misunderstanding. Leo hadn’t give him any detail, and maybe he had just read too much in some gestures that would have been normal among teammates? Maye there have been only pranks from the elders to the novice, those sort of stuff, and Leo, being Leo, had just overreacted?

But then Cristiano remembered Leo curled down in his bathroom and he wanted to kick himself only to have considered, just for a second, the possibility that “nothing serious had happened”.

Leo crying blurred together with the dozens of images of Leo that looked at him shaken, every time Cris had tried to get closer to him, to bring their relationship on a further step. They were all like variables of an equation that Crstiano still couldn’t understand. How he could have never seen? How he couldn’t still understand what happened exactly? He needed to know, he needed to understand, or he could never see Leo again. He couldn’t withstand the idea of hurting him again.

That was an obsession that was tormenting him even on the pitch, even during training. It wasn’t effecting his performance, of course not. He was too professional to allow his personal issues to be a problem for the team. But no matter how smiley was Marcelo, or how funny was Sergio, nothing could erase the frown out of Cristiano face. And his teammates were exchanging glares, but Cristiano didn’t care. He had only one thing in his mind.

Something horrible had happened, but it was in the closet, where media and journalists who were too busy to tell the fairy-tale of the little sick boy becoming the best in the world would have never looked.

But then, again, Cristiano couldn’t believe that if you had looked closer you couldn’t find a stain, a mark of what was happening. And while he was scrolling the videos of the 2006-2007 season he stuck on a particular match. Barcelona versus Atletico Madrid. He clicked the link and looked at Leo dancing among players and enchant the entire world with his magic. But Cristiano attention was captured at the end of the game, when he saw Leo seeking for a little dark boy, hugging him almost apologetically. He had crocked his head in the curvature of his neck and the other was cradling his hair, after kissing the top of his head and whispering something at his ear. 

That was the very same person that had threaten him for what Cristiano thought had had nonsense and now, suddenly, had just too much sense. 

Cristiano closed the video and opened a new tab, looking for the time schedule of Atletico Madrid.

***

The security guard recognised Cristiano, and they let him in without questioning. Better for him. 

When Aguero opened the door he could not hide the surprise on his face. “Ronaldo. I didn’t expect you.”

“I guess so,” he commented passing the door. 

Sergio offered him a beer, that was refused, but he took one for himself, and set both of them in the backyard of his house. Spring was already warm in Madrid, but in his garden there was a pleasant breeze late in the afternoon.

“So, what bought you here?”

Cristiano scoffed. “As you don’t already know.”

“You want to talk about Leo, I can imagine it,” he confirmed. “But what exactly do you want from me? It’s not like the last time we talked it ended very well.”

“Yeah, guess because of who?” He asked, smiling a sardonic smile.

But the other was good to avoid the accusation, sipping from his bottle.

There was a moment of hesitation before, finally, Cristiano burst out: “But it happened that I get to know why you were so on the edge.”

Sergio turned his head just the little necessarily to glance at him, with his bottle still leaning on his lips. “How did it come?”

Cristiano regretted that he hadn’t accepted the drink from Agüero, because right at the moment he would have loved to have something do handle, to ease his stress in some way.

“In the wrong way,” he honestly said. He knew that he was entering in a dangerous field, admitting this with someone that hadn’t certainly seemed to be friendly sympathetic to him. But there was no point in lying: Agüero could found the truth from Leo. And maybe there was a small part of Cristiano that really wanted to make him angry, because he felt like he deserved anger, delusion and maybe even a good punch.

“Elaborate.” The other replied with an iced voice.

Cristiano sighed, leaning on the wall and looking at the beautiful sunset in front of him. “I scared him. Scared him to the point that he told me what happened. Or at least he gave me some hints.”

“You… what exactly have you done, you moron? I warned you, didn’t I? What have you done to Leo?” 

There was this moment, where they both just stared at each other and the only hearable sound was their deep breath. Cristiano didn’t know if Aguero was actually going to crash the bottle of beer over his head, but he didn’t care. He was ready for a fight if that was the case.

“Yes, you warned me,” Cristiano said unimpressed, standing up slowly and towering him with all his 20cm of height difference. “I remember it very well. But you know what? What I can’t stop thinking is why you didn’t warn _them_. You were there. You were there as everything was happening. How you couldn’t see it? How you couldn’t stop it!?”

There was a flinch barely perceivable. A blink, a curvature of the shoulders and Cristiano knew that he had hit the nail on the head.

“Don’t you dare,” Aguero growled.

“Or what? What are you going to do? You can kick me now, and what exactly is going to change? Is it not going to change the past, isn’t it?”

“I cannot change the past but I can change the future, and I will never let someone hurt Leo! Never ever again. Is that understood big boy?”

“So do I!” he shouted, exasperated. “And that’s the reason why I am here, genius! Because I don’t want to hurt him anymore and I want to understand what happened, and why nobody saw it, why anybody stopped it.”

Sergio looked intensely at him, weighting his words I his head. “How could I trust you?”

“I told you,” he sighed, “because I am here. I could have not cared. I could have decided to run away, that that was too big to deal with, that that was not on me. But I am here, I front of a constantly overexcited Argentine to try to understand and I think that that earn me at least a chance.”

Sergio swing his bottle in his hand looked intensely at it, wondering. He sighed deeply and it looked like his anger was blew away as the air. He sat back on the floor, folding himself, his glare focused on something in his head, rather than something in front of him.

“It’s hard to understand what’s happening to him. But I guess you’ve already noticed that. You learnt in the hard way. 

I don’t know if he was born like this or if it was his way to react to the life he was having. You know even before… That thing… There was his illness, his family split because of him, the separation from Argentina. Not that he openly talked about that. Definitely he is not the guy that comes here and talk about his life in front of a beer,” he muttered looking resentfully at the bottle in his hand, as if it was all the drink fault.

But as he mentioned that, the mood of Cristiano shifted. He really shouldn’t be still annoyed for that thing, but the words escaped from his mouth before he could do anything about that.

"Oh really? Because it seemed to me that he didn’t take so long to tell you about me.”

Sergio looked up at him, puzzled at first, before realizing what Cristiano was referring to, and breaking in an actual, real laugh, from the bottom of his hearth.

That, even more than anger, left Cristiano floored. He felt a bit like an idiot.

“Ok, that was really funny. And lucky,” the other managed to say, between breaths. “I noticed something may be happening. No blame here, but you should be a little more careful with the marks that you could leave on Leo’s fair skin if you want to disguise your affair.”

Cristiano grunted, but apparently he had lost all his threatening look to an overamused Agüero.

“Anyway, I made a couple of comments about him dating an enemy. Meaning, you know, someone from here, in Madrid, and all the old gold rivalry between the two cities and shit. Because here there is the trick with Leo,” he half turned, pointing a finger to Cristiano. “He doesn’t talk about himself. But he is completely unable to lie. It’s not him. So, learn to ask the right questions if you want your answers.”

“Yeah, I noticed, as well,” Cristiano half smiled. It was the first time since he was there, but he couldn’t avoid it. He could see in front of his eyes the image of Leo all ruffled because maybe he didn’t want to say something, but couldn’t even deny it, either. His naivety was only another aspect that Cristiano learn to love so much in those months. 

“And you should have seen him,” Sergio resumed, “He widened his eyes and said ' _How have you known about Cristiano?'_ You could imagine my surprise. I think I couldn’t think properly for hours. Honestly, out of all the people that Leo could have chosen… you?!? But I guess he has a thing with dark-haired with tanned skin, apparently. I can see a pattern here.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Really?” 

“Oh, well, there was Antonella, and then… well…” he suddenly became hesitant, lowering his gaze. “He asked me out,” he finally admitted.

“Really?” he asked again, and the tone this time was completely different.

But Sergio didn’t seem to realise it, and simply nodded, lost in his thoughts. “I told you, I am not interested in men, that’s all. But I can’t never stop to ask myself what would have happened if I said yes. If I were there, with him, and maybe nobody would have never dared to…” he dozed off.

Cristiano felt awkward. He went to Agüero’s house ready to fight. He had been angry with him, he thought he hadn’t done enough, but now, hearing him scared of the exactly the same thing, it felt all a bit wrong. Agüero couldn’t really blame himself for not liking Leo. It wasn’t fair.

“But that was part of the problem,” he sighed. “I kind of realised that Leo was strange, but I thought he was just awkward after I refused him? And I didn’t want to be inopportune, I wanted him to have his space. I really just thought he wanted his space. And then, it was too late…”

Cristiano finally sat on the floor, next to him. The sunset was already in an advanced state and the profile of Agüero was like a shadow in the dim light. “How did you manage to know?” he asked.

“It became clear at the Argentina retreat. There was definitely something wrong. The questions he asked, and then, I could hear him having nightmares, if not crying in the night. At first I thought it was the stress for the World Cup. As I said, he wouldn’t spoke, but after so many questions, at the end I could guessed… what was happening.”

Cris felt sick. It was happening every time he or someone else were mentioning loudly the past of Leo, and he guessed that it was going to happen forever. There was no way that he could get used to that. “What did you do then?” He asked after clearing his through.

There was a long, heavy silence before he admitted in a breath: “Nothing.”

“What do you mean with nothing?,” his voice dangerously similar to a growl.

The other limited to shrug, suddenly looking much younger.

“Are you telling me that after Leo had told you what was happening to him you just let him go back to his persecutors?”

“I panicked! I was a 17 years’ old who was dealing with something too big, and couldn’t… I didn’t know what to do!”

“Anything, for God sake! You could at least say something to someone!”

“You don’t know anything,” he yelled. “Leo made me swear one hundred times that I wouldn’t tell anyone! He was terrified about that! I don’t know what they had told him but I did know that…” he stopped, overwhelmed, and took a sip of his beer. He looked like he really needed it at that point. 

Still, that didn’t make Cristiano feel pity for him. In fact, Cristiano was making an effort not to punch him. He really wanted, right then, but, on the other hand, he wanted Agüero to go on with his story. He needed to understand as much as possible. Cristiano clenched his fists, reminding himself that that was the reason that had brought him there.

“At the certain point I faced them,” he added, his voice more controlled, even if the tension was evident under the surface. “And it was a big mistake. There were pictures. None of them showed them, of course, but Leo…” he bit the mouth of the bottle and Cristiano could notice that he was making an effort to hold tears.

“Were they threatening Leo with pictures?”

He nodded, still unable to talk. It took a couple of deep breathes before he was able to talk again. “Me, mostly. Leo was already too terrified. They were really… something I want to forget. Something I am not talking anymore.”

Another sip of beer, and the bottle was finally empty. Sergio throw it in a close bin before getting back talking.

“But something slipped off within the team, I think. I don’t know. But it was complicate in any case, because on the one hand there were three of the most influential players in the world, on the other… a promise, maybe, but not anything else. You know, the society decided to act carefully, but what happened was that at the end of that year everything changed. Guardiola arrived, and they were immediately send away. I am not sure how the things were correlated but I have always thought that Guardiola had a talent in understanding Leo.”

“They should have been send to jail, not _away_!” Cristiano was sick. Leo had this pure, devoted love for Barcelona, and they didn’t manage to protect him. They have been complicit with those sleazebags who harmed Leo, and they let them go away, free as birds.

“It’s too easy for you, isn’t it?”

“He became…. Him. The Messiah. Whatever. He was no more less important than Ronaldhino or whoever! Why they went on protecting them?”

He stared at him with wide eyes “You know? Sometimes I am wondering if you’ve ever _met_ Leo, forget having… well, whatever there is between you two. Like seriously? Do you really think that Leo could bear the pressure of the media on a story like that? A trial for sexual assault?”

Cris opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, like the idiot that he was demonstrating to be. “Fuck!” he shouted at the end, pouching the wall. Agüero was right. Why Cristiano has to be the one always wrong in this sick story? He had always thought that whatever he was having with professional football was pure gold. Now he could see that gold was what the bars of the most horrible cage were made of.


	13. Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Leo is sympathetic and Cris is not at all.

Cris and Leo met again in Barcelona only three weeks later.

As always, Cristiano landed a car: a comfortable black saloon car with grey and blue interiors. He preferred sportier cars, but it was raining, which meant that they were probably going to have to spend the entire day in the car, since they didn't want to risk to be seen in an indoor public place as a café. Hence, comfort won against aesthetic.

Leo was waiting for him at the edge of a peripheral street, sheltering himself under the cantilever roof of a deserted bus stop. Approaching the small hunched figure, Cristiano's heart skipped a beat as it did every time. He had missed Leo so much that as soon as he got off the car, he enfolded him tightly in his arms, inhaling his scent. When Leo was in his arms, it felt like everything was alright, like everything was exactly where it needed to be. Everything was peaceful.

And then something clicked.

Cris felt the urge of bending down and kissing him, but he stopped, in realisation. What if Leo didn’t want him to? What if Leo only let him to please him and because he didn't want to cause any trouble? Cris looked down at Leo, who was resting his face against his chest with his eyes closed. He seemed relaxed, he looked like he was enjoying the moment, but how could Cris be sure? How many times Leo had snapped out of it all of a sudden? How much of what he didn’t like had he stand before having those reactions? Cris didn’t feel particularly keen on testing Leo's patience again.

Leo was now looking at him with curiosity, but it didn't seem like he wanted to do anything more than hugging, and Cristiano couldn't help but notice that. So, in the end, he let him go, and invited Leo in the car.

As a matter of fact, it was quite a miserable day. In Barcelona it was already very hot, although it was only spring, but the rain made the day very dark. Nevertheless, Cris liked the sound of the rain on the car, or the noise of the windscreen wiper, that were somehow filling the silence that fell every now and then during their conversation. They were both a bit nervous. At least, Cris felt a little bit nervous, thanks to this annoying feeling that he might scare or discomfort Leo. 

The feeling was already there, while he was heading to the hills surrounding Barcelona, as per usual. Since their first dates, it had been Cristiano the one insisting to go there, so to hide themselves as much as possible from people that could recognise them. Now he realised how creepy it must have been for Leo to go in a secluded place with someone that he had barely known. In fact, he _had_ freaked out their first time together in Barcelona, now that Cris was thinking about it.

“Oh, shit,” he muttered without thinking.

“What?” 

“Nothing. I was just thinking. I was wondering, maybe you would like to do something else? Going somewhere else? Like, I don’t know, the beach?”

Leo laughed lightly. “You really think this is a good day for the beach?”

Cris kept quiet, embarrassed. Obviously he had talked without thinking, but Leo assisted him  
“Actually I do like watching the sea when it rains. We could stay in the car. And there won't be many people, with this weather.”

“Sounds like a good plan,” Cris brightened. 

“Only… can we grab something to eat first? I'm starving.”

“As you wish,” Cris smiled.

They parked in an open car park outside Barcelona, right in front of the sea, so they could see it from the car. The landscape was a bit disappointing, though. There wasn't a real storm, but mere greyness where the edges of the clouds, the rain and the sea met and faded into each other. Nothing comparable to the gorgeous, scaring storms that Cris had experienced in Madeira. The Mediterranean sea was nothing like the ocean, Cristiano thought, with a bit of nostalgia.

The smell wasn’t helping either.

“McDonald’s, Leo? Seriously?”

Leo faced him, smiling and with his mouth full. “They never let me have it during the season. If it's not the doctors, it's my father. They're all concerned about my diet.”

“I can see why.”

“Oh, please, not you too. Let me enjoy my little secret.”

“And let you be my little chubby Putto?”

“Mean!”

“Seriously, the season is almost finished. What should I expect for the summer?”

Leo suddenly sulked. “Nothing,” he whined. “Did you forget?”

Cris laughed. “And now you are all sad because you can’t eat McDonald’s at the World Cup? You can do your best to kick Argentina out of the rounds. I wouldn’t mind,” he joked, but Leo was still brooding. His portion of fries forgotten on his lap.

“What’s up?” Cris asked.

“It’s not very good, you know? Argentina, I mean.”

“You've got The God of football as a coach and the Messiah as a striker, what can go wrong?” He mocked him. It was unfair of him, but he couldn’t help the feeling of discomfort coming from being part of a small team. Portugal was not Argentina. The entire team counted on him and only him, and after his knee injury, he didn’t feel at his best. It was not going to be easy.

Argentina, on the other hand, had all the perfect players to be successful. Nevertheless, he had to admit that the Argentina's qualifications hadn't gone very well. And Leo was confirming his doubts.

“Nothing is really working, you know? Diego… He doesn’t have a plan, an idea. The only thing he wants to do is… I don’t know, playing, I think.”

“I think you can understand that.”

“Yes,” he confirmed. “Yes, but I don’t want to coach.”

Cristiano kept quiet. It was really unusual to hear Leo complaining. He already regretted his little tantrum about his own team, looking at Leo's brooding face. It was true that the entire Portugal was counting on him, but they were already adoring him as a hero. He wanted to meet their expectation, that was true, but that was nothing compared to the craziness of football in Argentina. Argentina was already expected to win, and everybody had already proved to be more than ready to put their frustration on Leo’s slender shoulders if this didn't happen. And Leo, as he said… he only wanted to play. He was not the right person to face all of that.

 

Cris felt that sting again. He wanted to reach out and pull Leo in his arms. He wanted to hug him and kiss him and make him forget all the troubles that suddenly were pestering him, but he simply couldn’t dare. 

“You know? Dinho changed after the World Cup,” Leo said, out of the blue.

Cristiano was shocked. Leo had never, ever talked about Ronaldinho, except for that one time. And the situation back then had been… well, not a normal situation, that was sure. The mention of him, right then, while they were eating McDonald’s in a car under the rain, left Cristiano completely unbalanced.

“What?”

Leo shrugged. “It was the World Cup. He had all these expectations and it went very bad. He changed, after that. He was… he was unhappy. You could see it, even when he played football. He was annoyed. Angry. Angrier and angrier. He got angry with me, then.”

“What… what do you mean now?”

“It's bad. All this pressure…” Leo hugged his knees, unable to finish the sentence.

On another occasion Cris would have scolded Leo for staining the car, but at that moment he didn’t even notice that. He turned completely to look at Leo, still not believing what he was really hearing.

“Are you… are you really defending him now?”

“It’s not… I am just saying that he has also been nice with me. He helped me a lot when I joined the team.”

“He raped you, for God's sake!” The burst of anger came out uncontrolled. After weeks of insomnia, after all the rage, the pity and the guilty trips, Cristiano couldn’t withstand to listen to someone trying to defend those that, in his mind, had become the origin of all the evil in the world, let alone if it was Leo doing it.

The wide, sad eyes that were now fixed on Cris caused again that sting of guilt. Nevertheless, the rage wasn’t gone yet. Dinho and the others were the ones to blame, not Cristiano. It was just unfair that Leo was putting on his shoulders the responsibility of his sadness and, at the same time, trying to defend Dinho. 

“I… I know… but he was my friend. I…”

“He was not, Leo! Stop it!”

Cris’ shout was interrupted by a high-pitched sad sound, something between a sigh and a cry. Cris froze, looking at Leo curling into a ball with his head hidden against his legs. It was exactly as that night. All the rage was forgotten then, replaced by a guilty feeling that was turning into panic.

“Leo?” He reached out.

“Don’t touch me!”

Cris withdrew the hand, as if he had been burnt. He couldn’t believe that he did it again. That he scared Leo again to that point. All his attempts at being careful proved to be completely useless.

“Leo?” He called again.

“Shut up! Just leave me alone!”

Cris swallowed, feeling tears stinging at the back of his eyes. “Do you…” he cleared his throat trying to make his voice sound less broken. “Do you want me to bring you home?”

“Just give me a break. Leave me... leave me alone for a bit.”

“Okay.” Cris turned to look at him, lifting his own legs on the seat in a foetal position. “Okay.”

And he did as Leo asked him. He looked at him, at how his back was rising and falling with each breath. The rain was heavier now. He could hear the tapping of big drops on the roof of the car and the air was being humid, impregnated with the vapour of their own breathes. 

Cris was wondering if Leo was going to fall asleep in that position. He himself felt a bit sleepy. He would have liked to fall asleep like that every night, looking over Leo like a guardian angel. Instead, he was failing so badly. Leo was now upset and it was all his fault.   
When he licked his own chapped lips, he tasted salt. He furiously wiped away his tears: he didn’t feel he had any right to cry.

Right then Leo moved, maybe driven by the sound of Cris' gesture. He looked back at Cris and smiled a little embarrassed smile. “I'm sorry,” he said. “I know you're right. My father, Kun, they all say the same.”

“It's not a matter of being right,” Cris raised a hand to caress his head, but he noticed how Leo’s eyes followed his movement, and he rested it on his seat, instead.

“What they did was wrong and unacceptable. The World Cup, their frustration… this is all bullshit. It’s not that you are going to hurt someone if you don’t win the cup, aren’t you?”

Leo shook his head distractedly, his eyes still fixed on the hand close to his leg. “Are you…” he started, looking at Cris from under his fringe, but he didn't finish and shook his head again.

“What?” Cris asked.

“Nothing. You are right.” He said, stretching his legs and leaning on the seat in a more relaxed position. “And what about you? How do you feel about the World Cup?”

It was Cristiano's turn to open up about his own frustration, about how much he wanted to help his team, even if he was not at his best; or about his concerns about the reliability of his teammates. But he could tell that Leo was still distracted, his thoughts lost somewhere else. Cris already knew that Leo was one of those persons who tended to get stuck in their own thoughts to the point of being obsessed with them. Unfortunately, this was not only football-related. He didn't dare to raise the issue again, even if all his attempts to distract him were only half working. The last thing he wanted was to trigger another reaction like the one he had triggered earlier.

It had been a strange day. When they separated, it had stopped raining, and the sun was peeking out from behind the clouds. It was a gorgeous sunset. Nevertheless, the mood of Cristiano was still grey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I am late. But I am still kicking. Thank you very much to all of you who are still reading and commenting. Without you, I couldn't go on!


	14. The Only Thing That Matters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Cris is been taught some lessons, and experiences a serene night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who’s back? Yeah, I promised you that I will finish this story and here I am, still kicking! Thank you very much for your patience! Plus, thank you very much and a huuuge hug to @messifangirl, who accepted to beta-read this chapter. And also found a title. You are priceless, girl!

There were little cracks on the white ceiling. They were more like lines, covered by new layers of plaster. Cristiano had been staring at them for minutes, leaning on the bench of the changing room. Maybe it had been hours. He couldn’t say, really: he felt like he was he was out of touch with reality. 

He could have blamed the training: he had stayed on the pitch until it was night, hours after his teammates had left. But he wasn’t really tired. It wasn’t that. He knew that feeling –or rather, non-feeling. It was the same as four years ago, when he was wandering around on the streets of Manchester while his father was drinking his life away in Madeira.

There was a soft touch on his hair.

It was unexpected, especially as he was convinced he was alone. Yet, he didn’t wince. Whatever was happening, he didn’t really care.

“Cristiano?”

In Cristiano's line of sight there weren't white lines anymore, but a pair of warm brown eyes peering down at him.

“Ricky?” His own voice sounded hoarse, as if he had just woken up.

“I was looking for you. You weren't answering the phone. How long have you been training?”

Cristiano didn’t reply, and only shrugged. He couldn’t answer in any case: he didn’t know the answer. He had just gone on and on, until he hadn’t been able to see the ball anymore. Nobody had been there to turn on the floodlights of the training pitch on. After that, he acted as an automaton: shower, dressing, and then… he laid down on the bench, all his strength drained away.

Ricardo’s caresses went on, feeling incredibly soothing. “You were acting strange today. You didn’t talk to anyone, and that says a lot, considering it's you.”

“I was just focused. The match the day after tomorrow is crucial if we want to go on with the Champions League.”

A sweet sad smile appeared on Ricky’s face, as he sat close to him without stopping the touch. He was always sweet. No matter what was happening in Cris’ life, he could always count on Ricky sweet concern.

“You shouldn’t lie. It’s not the most important match we’ve ever had. But this is something different, isn’t it?”

Cristiano didn’t know what to reply. He honestly didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t thinking of anything and that was the truth. But then, his eyes were captured by something shining on Ricky’s chest.

It was a small golden cross. Cristiano knew that it had always been there, except during the matches: according to FIFA's rules you couldn't wear any jewels, and there was no way that Ricky would break any law.

He looked at the cross and there the words came to his mind, uninvited, from his adolescence. “Forgive who sins against you seventy-seven times,” he murmured.

“What?” Ricardo asked, taken aback.

“Is still valid if the harm is done against the ones that you love? Should you stay there and watch them offer the other cheek again and again? Without doing anything?”

“What do you mean?” His hand was still tangled in Cris’ locks, but the caress had stopped. Cristiano shrugged him away, sitting up, a challenging look in his eyes.

“What if someone hurt someone that you love? Would you be so keen on forgiving? Because I don’t think I can. What I think I would do is beat them, seventy-seven times and then seventy-seven times again, until they are only a bloody mess on the floor.” 

There was an embarrassing silence after that. Cristiano knew that he was making Ricky uncomfortable. Sweet, caring, religious Ricky - the only one who came back to check on him. Cristiano couldn’t care less at that moment. He felt a sadistic desire to push him, making him snap and admit that no, the world was not made of holiness and goodness, that there is terrible shit out there, some things that even his God can’t explain.

But Ricky didn’t snap. Instead, he asked in the sweetest tone, “What happened to your girlfriend?”

Maybe Cristiano really wanted to see if he was able to make Ricky snap. Maybe, Leo deserved at least this: not to be something Cristiano was ashamed of. 

“Boyfriend,” he replied, curtly.

He was expecting judgment, disgust, probably an occasion for that fight that he couldn’t have against Ronaldinho. 

Instead, “Oh, ok,” Kaka only said, little tense maybe, but even the news about Cristiano’s sexuality wasn’t enough to push him on the edge, apparently. 

“So… what happened to him?” Ricky asked again, touching his arm softly.

Cristiano bit down at his lower lip, unable to speak. He tasted bile rising in his through as his anger increased.

“It doesn’t matter,” Ricardo said, shaking his head. “You don’t have to tell me, it’s a personal and delicate matter, I see that. The important thing is: how is he? Where is he now? In the hospital? I think you should go and stay with him, I am sure the Mister would understand.”

Cristiano couldn’t help but laugh. A short, bitter laugh, more like a scoff, but still a laugh, that made a tense smile appear on Ricky’s lips.

“It happened three years ago, Ricky.”

“Three years? How… And did she... _he_ tell you only now?”

“Well, it’s not like he really wanted to,” he replied with a humourless smile on his lips. “I… messed things up. And then he broke down, telling me what they did to him.”

 

“So tell me now,” Cris challenged him with a glance, “what should I do? Forgive them? Pretend that nothing happened? That I haven’t seen him,” he stopped, his voice failing him.

“I’m not saying that,” Ricky answered cautiously. “But if you ask me, I think… I don’t think that’s the way, either?”

“What? Being angry with the ones who hurt the person I love? You are too holy for that?”

“It doesn’t change anything, Cris! What… why do you think he told you, considering also that he didn’t want to tell you anything. So that you could wear your shining armour and look for revenge for him?”

Cristiano froze. His thoughts wandered again in the silence following Ricky’s words. Somewhere, a tap was leaking. 

“Cris, the only thing that matters, right now, is being sure that your boyfriend feels safe with you. That he is happy. Just stay with him. Listen to him. Let him feel that he is not alone, that you are on his side.”

“I… I don’t…” Cris said, trying to speak, though the words remained stuck in his throat.

In the silence that stretched, Cris felt tears stinging the corner of his eyes. Since that night, he had spent so much time worrying about Leo’s unhappiness and the men who caused it, that he simply forgot the most important thing: to make Leo happy.

“Cris? Are you…?”

The embrace that followed, the warmth of Ricky’s solid body against him, was all that was needed for Cris to let down his guard.

“Don’t worry, Cris, it’s all right,” Ricky was soothing. “You always try to do the right thing, and this is what matters. You had the right intentions. You just need to stay with him. He needs your love, not your rage.”

Cris nodded, still unable to talk. But something inside him had changed.

 

Later that day, Cris was sitting on his bed in the lotus position, his mobile on his lap. Ricky’s words were hammering in his head, along with images of the last meetings that he’d had with Leo. He’d _tried_ to do the right things, as Ricky said. And as a result, Leo's tear-streaked face was haunting his memories.

Cristiano bit his lower lip and looked down at the sheet of his bed crumpled in his fists. He realised that Leo had never been there with him. Even the night that they had spent together, they were in the bathroom.

He sighed: even if that was the night when everything crumbled down, the memory of Leo’s warm body curled up over his body was so sweet. He missed it. He missed _him_. And he wanted to fix everything, and have Leo cuddling him just out of happiness and not of exhaustion from crying. 

‘I need to talk to you,’ he texted eventually, after gathering his courage.

The reply arrived only few seconds later. ‘Talk.’

‘Not over the phone.’ The need of seeing him now was almost painful. He needed to know that he could be with him without harming him

‘If you want to break up with me, it’s okay if you do it now by text.’

The mobile slipped from Cris’ hands. He had known, since Ricky had asked the question, that he hadn’t done enough for Leo’s happiness. But this? How much had he fucked things up to make Leo believe that he wanted to break up with him?

Cris hands were still trembling when he picked up his mobile. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before managing to text again.

‘I don’t want to break up with you! Why do you think that?!’

After pressing enter, he somehow managed to type some more, despite the shaky fingers: ‘Do you want to break up with me?’

The seconds that he had to wait for the reply were agonising. Cris counted them with the beats of his heart, the pounding so loud that he could feel them reverberating through his entire body.

Finally, the display lit up, signalling an incoming message, a single word:

‘No.’

Cristiano dropped on his back, releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He found himself staring at the screen with a big smile. Leo had scared the hell out of him, but not everything was lost. Leo wanted to stay with him. Cris just needed to see him, to apologise, and then everything was going to be alright. 

But now he was becoming restless. He wanted to fix everything now. He wanted to make Leo happy right away. Sleeping when Leo thought he wanted to break up with him –why did he think that, anyway? – was impossible.

He looked at the clock. Tomorrow’s training was only in the afternoon. He could make it, but he had to be sure that Leo wanted it. No matter how much Cris wanted something, he needed to learn to be careful with what Leo wanted first.

‘Can I come to see you tonight?’ He texted, eventually.

‘Now?! How?!’

‘I can take a charter. I will be there in an hour.’

‘And what am I going to tell my father?’

Cris smiled at his little victory: Leo hadn’t said no straight away.

‘You can tell him that your boyfriend wants to meet him?’

He had to wait then, but he had known that was going to happen. Leo needed his time to adapt to a new plan for his life, even if the plan concerned just one evening. 

‘No,’ Cristiano read and he felt deflated by the rejection. But then he went on reading. ‘You will book a hotel room. But we could meet outside.’

Cris dropped the mobile and jumped out of the bed. He had luggage to pack.

 

It took about two hours for Cris to reach the beach next to Leo’s house where they had decided to meet. It was a very beautiful, clear night of the warm late spring in Barcelona. The full moon was bright enough to be on a beach without the need of lights. On the other hands, they hoped that the few eventual people who were around wouldn’t pay too much attention to two blurred shadows on a beach.

He was sitting on the sand, looking absent-mindedly at the glare of the moon sparkling on the black surface in front of him. He was glad they had chosen that place: the rhythm of the sea had always worked as a lullaby for him, and it was a balm while he was waiting for Leo to come. Cristiano inhaled the salty air and his mind went back to so many nights spent on a beach, running away from the things he hadn’t wanted to see at home.

He had survived worse than what he was facing now. Leo had survived even worse. They could break up that night and they would be perfectly fine. But Cristiano couldn’t stop thinking what a failure it would be for him. Again failing a person he loved.

\- _He doesn’t talk about himself. But he is completely unable to lie. It’s not him. So, learn to ask the right questions if you want your answers._ \- Agüero had said.

Even when he had been told the right path, Cristiano seemed unable to do the right thing.

“Hi.”

Cristiano was startled at the sound of Leo’s soft voice. 

“Hey,” he greeted, rising up, and any other word remained stuck in his throat. Leo’s colouring was made for the night: the moonlight was making his skin almost translucent and his eyes were dark as a bottomless pit. The idea of losing him right now was intolerable. Even not touching him was giving Cristiano physical pain, but it wasn’t the right moment for hugs and kisses.

“So, what did you want to talk to me about?” Leo asked, tilting the head partially hidden in the hoodie that he was wearing. It was too big for him, as usual, and he was playing with the sleeves so long that they were covering his hands.

Cristiano signalled for them to walk. He needed to move. Walking with the rhythm of the waves helped to give an order to his thoughts. The sound of the sea made the silence between them less painful.

“Why did you think that I wanted to break up with you?” He asked quietly. 

Leo frowned. “You said you wanted to talk to me _before_ I said that.”

Cristiano chuckled. He had a point. “Alright, let’s start. I owe you an apology,” he said.

The line between Leo’s eyebrows deepened. “Why?” 

There was a pebble in the sand and Cristiano started to kicking it at each step, before trying to put his thoughts into words. 

“As you know I don’t have a lot of experience in relationships. But I had been so arrogant to think that I was always doing the right thing with you. I thought that I deserved more trust when I wanted you to stay with me on nights, and then that I had all the rights in the world to be angry with the people that harmed you. But I have never asked you. I have never listened to you, or considered what you actually want. I am sorry for that. And now I am here, and I want to listen to you.”

Cristiano glanced at Leo next to him, and even on the dim light the blush in his fair cheeks was visible. 

“I… Ok. But I wasn’t angry with you,” Leo replied.

“No?” Cristiano smiled his most reassuring smile, kicking his own uncertainties away with the pebble. “Then why did you think that I didn’t want you anymore?”

Leo stopped and now was blushing so violently that Cristiano could have seen it even without the moon.

“I should have never told you what happened.”

Cristiano extended his arm to grab Leo’s hand, but retreated noticing Leo’s glance at the gesture. 

“It shouldn’t have happened like that,” Cristiano agreed. “You should have said it only if, and when, you were ready to tell me.”

Leo shook his head, wrapping his arms in himself, making Cristiano worried that he was having another panic attack. It seemed like Leo couldn’t touch that particular time in his past without freaking out. Not yet. Maybe never, and Cristiano had to learn to accept it.

“But Leo, how did this made you think that I wouldn’t want to stay with you anymore?” He tried to ask, in his most reassuring tone. Avoiding the triggering past, focusing on their present, on their relationship.

“I have done disgusting things. It’s just pretty obvious,” Leo eventually said in a small voice, unable to look at Cristiano.

“I have never, ever thought that!” Cristiano said, exasperated. That is the one thing that he could never cope with, no matter what: Leo blaming himself. “How do you even think that?” 

In front of Leo’s hesitation, Cris bit down his impatience of asking Leo further, but then, finally Leo moved. 

He slowly reached for Cris, curling his fingers around Cris’ hand. Despite the warmth night at the beginning of the summer, Leo’s skin was cold and Cris tightened the grip, as to try to pass some of his warmness to Leo.

For a moment they both stared at their entangled hands, listening to the sound of the waves.

“You haven’t even touched me since then,” Leo admitted. “Even few seconds ago, you just stopped.”

“What?!” Cristiano pulled on his wrist a little until Leo faced him.

“Of course I didn’t. After what you told me, obviously, I wanted to be careful, I guessed that you didn’t want to…”

_Ah! He guessed._

“I have always said that I like you, and I like to be with you,” Leo accused, his voice turned icy.

“There were moments when you didn’t like the way I was touching you,” Cristiano said in his defence.

“And I told you when that happened.”

And he had told him. Shit.

Cristiano hugged him so hard that he squeezed all of the air out of Leo’s lungs.

“I am so sorry. I have been so stupid. So arrogant. Please, Leo, believe me. I was only scared of hurting you. I would never, ever refuse you.”

Cristiano felt the little body in his arms moving to adjust himself against his chest. Leo was right, they had barely touched each other for so long, and he missed it so much. He kissed his head, breathing the smell of his shampoo under the salt of the air.

“I missed you,” Leo said, mirroring his thoughts. He was clutching Cris’ waist, brushing his head under Cris’ chin, like a cat.

Cris pulled back from him just the little bit necessary to look at him. Leo was blushing again but this time he was smiling, as well, and Cris thought that he has never been more beautiful. “I really want to try to be a better person for you. Please, help me to be better for you.”

Leo shook his head. “I need to improve as well. I am sorry if you are confused by me. I will try to… be less confusing? But I went out tonight even though I had a short notice, did you notice?”

Cris couldn’t help but smile. “Yes, you have been very good.”

“And I didn’t tell you to take a room because I didn’t want to be with you, but because I didn’t know how the evening would have been and I was scared to have you in the house after breaking up.”

“Ok,” Cristiano almost laughed. Leo had the incredible ability to never talk apart from exactly those moment when he shouldn’t. He put a finger over his mouth, and the mood immediately changed, as the touch changed in a caress.

Cristiano bent down to kiss him and Lionel rose up on his toes to reach him. Cris vaguely thought that there was a sort of metaphor in their movements.


	15. A Question of Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Cris thought he was going to have a good night, and instead he has one he'll never forget ?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is the end after more than two years. I would like to thank all the people that passed by. The readers, the commenters, the ones who were so kind to leave a kudos. It’s thanks to you that I could go on. Many and many times I was on the edge of stopping but I’ve thought “if it’s going to give at least a little smile to one person, it’s worthy”. So yeah, thank you. Just… fun fact: I’ve never finished a long story before. Now I have :)

“I think we lost him. It’s clearly some sort of paralysis.”

“C’mon, he’s just happy. Leave him alone. For once he is not sulking.”

“No, I am telling you: too many headshots. Or a bad hit. Something damaged his brain, that is. We lost him.”

Cristiano went on grinning like crazy, only barely conscious of Ramos and Casillas talking about him. The fact was that things with Leo had been going much better lately. It had been almost nine months since their relationship started. They had gone through a lot, that’s for sure. 

Cristiano hadn’t had any experience on how to be in relationship. Leo’s experiences… well, it was better not to think about them. Not today when Cris was so happy because Leo’s schedule allowed him to pass by Cris’ house. Having dinner together, and then doing some lazy cuddling on the sofa after a training session was definitely enough to make Cris happy, especially because he hadn’t seen Leo for two weeks!

Damned if he didn’t miss him already.

But the point was that Leo had just sent him a message, only few words really, that asked Cristiano if he could stay the night. And ever since Cristiano had read the message, he had gotten this large grin on his face that he couldn’t make go away. His teammates could mock him as long as they wanted, and they probably had all the right to do: he would have mocked someone that had grinned to himself for an entire half an hour. But he was helpless. He was just too happy.

And he was still happy that night when Leo arrived. It wasn’t a matter of opportunity of being touchier. At all. In fact, Cristiano had already prepared the guest room where he had stowed Leo’s bags before having dinner. 

The point was that Leo was trusting Cris enough to stay with him during the night. Probably also against his father’s wishes. And Cris was so proud and full of a sense of responsibility. And happy. Indecently happy.

They had a nice dinner that actually Cris had secretly ordered before Leo got there. Not that Leo necessarily needed to know how bad he was in the kitchen. Better a little lie than a poisoned boyfriend.

And now they were spending a nice evening spread out on his L-sofa, watching some TV show. Eventually they ended up settling on Games of Thrones which, for Cris, wasn’t really ideal. He couldn’t avoid being concerned about possible triggering material for Leo. But on the other hand, he had promised himself to be an attentive but not obsessive boyfriend. In other words: if Leo hadn’t said anything (and he hadn’t) Cris wouldn’t be the one deciding what Leo could or could not bear. 

Everything was comfortable and sweet. Cris had also avoided putting on a fancy outfit: he was wearing simple shirt and dark jeans, without any kind of gel in his hair. He was even wearing glasses. Being like this was something new for Cris: the point was that he had spent most of his life without the money to buy new clothes, sharing the ones of his oldest brothers. And still, his mother was obsessed with the idea that he always had to be in order, concerned about preserving the appearance of a family without any problems. 

That kind of obsession was running through Cris’ veins now, so that even when he could afford new clothing on a daily basis, he still always needed to show himself as impeccable and elegant. If it were up to him, even when he was in his own house, he’d continue to dress that way—despite the fact that whenever they met, Leo would be in worn out jeans and an extra-large t-shirt. 

Cris had adapted, knowing that Leo preferred him in that way –yes, glasses included. But honestly being here, dressed casually, watching TV, all of it seemed so familiar, so day-by-day and it was the best feeling for Cris. 

In that relaxed mood it was just natural for Cris to pet Leo, who was seated with his back and head lying on Cris chest.

If you’d ask later, Cris couldn’t say where he touched him or what exactly he was doing. He really didn’t know, provocation was not in his plans. And when Leo moved, changing his position, it was just a mere chance that Cris looked there.

“Oh,” he said, and he instantly wanted to bite his own tongue because Leo immediately stiffened. 

“I am sorry,” Leo mumbled soon after, as he scrambled away on the coach, putting some distance between himself and Cris.

“What? Sorry for what? Wait!” Cris jumped up on all fours and reached out to grab his wrist. And then he stayed still. Not wanting Leo to run away was one thing, but still Cris didn't feel right about blocking his path.

In the background, people from the TV were still talking of battles and wars. But neither Cris nor Leo could hear them, as tense as they were.

Yet Leo hadn't struggled or tried to escape, so Cris kneeled down, in a more relaxed position. He still didn’t release Leo’s wrist, but rather started to soothe it with his thumb. Leo continued looking down, all red in the face.

“Why you feel sorry?” Cris asked, lowering his voice. “Don’t you think it’s normal?”

Leo didn’t raise his eyes, but at least nodded faintly. Cris smiled, feeling a little more confident. “Don’t you think that I am actually glad? I mean: you like me. Surely I am not expecting an apology for that,” he mocked gently. 

At this Leo smiled softly, looking convinced by Cris’ reasoning. Eventually he straightened up with a new resolution in his eyes. "Recently I’ve thought of you while masturbating,” he said. 

Cristiano stayed frozen.

“… ok,” he said, with a moment of hesitation. Okay, maybe Leo had the talent of not only speaking few words, but also of saying the worst ones at the worst time. But at that moment, Cristiano was already used to that. And, for sure, he didn’t want Leo to think that he had said something bad, or to make him feel embarrassed again.

All considering, if Cris thought about it that way, it was quite funny.

“What?” Leo asked as Cris giggled.

“It’s just… apparently, our imaginary selves are having a lot of great sex.”

“Oh,” Leo said as he lowered his eyes again, slightly embarrassed. But he was smiling this time, and those red cheeks had always been so attractive to Cris. He reached out and caressed Leo’s soft cheek, earning another shy smile.

And then both startled, as the room was filled by a horrible scream. They both looked in the direction where it was coming from and started to laugh. It had been the TV, showing tortured people, forgotten.

“Do you mind if I turn it off?” Cris asked, reaching for the remote control.

But when he turned back to Leo again, he was curled up in a ball, with a new, brooding expression.

“I didn’t do it because… I mean, it’s not that now that is off we should…” 

“…It’s ok, I am just…”

They both stopped talking, and then Cris sat close to Leo, sighing. The room was silent with the TV turned off, and somehow Cris felt like if he broke the silence he would also break Leo’s delicate equilibrium. He reached out with the top of his fingers, brushing against the back of Leo’s hand, leaving the question implicit in the gesture.

At the beginning, Leo didn’t talk. But he uncurled his fingers and grabbed Cris hand. He was cold—a little sweaty even—and Cris hoped that he could pass some of his warm over to him. He strengthened his grip a bit.

When finally Leo spoke, it was so low that he would have been impossible to hear with the TV still filling the room.

“It’s just… I am wondering if… I know it’s not the same, but…”

“Tell me what’s going on, Leo. Don’t worry,” Cris said quietly, hoping that he was being soothing, as his thumb slid against Leo’s wrist. 

“Don’t you think that if I am doing what they wanted me to do. If I –want- to do what they want, then…”

Cris’ forehead started to crease. “Then what? Leo, I don’t understand.”

“I know, I am sorry.”

“Oh, no,” Cris replied, lifting Leo’s chin to make him look up. “What have we said about saying sorry?”

“I know, I am sor… I mean,” Leo smiled, confused. “Ok.”

“Ok,” Cris replied, and he moved his hand, cupping Leo’s cheek, playing with the soft strands of hair that were falling on his face. “It’s ok. There is nothing wrong with feeling what all humans feel. It’s just me and you here. There is nothing wrong with doing what you want to do.”

Leo made a sound, but he didn’t seem convinced.

“It’s not what they wanted. It’s all about what you want,” Cris continued.

“And what you want, right?” Leo asked tentatively.

“Yes,” Cris reassured him. “You’re right. What we want.”

“I would never forgive myself if I were to do something wrong with you,” Leo mumbled.

It was hard for Cris to understand. How could Leo even think that he could have been the one hurting Cris? After all that happened to him? But on the other hand it was also terribly simple. It was obvious that Leo’s biggest fear was being similar to the people who had hurt him. 

So Cris indulged him.

“I won’t let you. I will always be honest with you. Just as you will be with me, right?”

“Yes,” Leo said. He looked down for a moment as his hands tightened together, before managing to look Cris in the eye. “I… can I kiss you?”

Cris simply nodded, and Leo got down on all fours too, framing his face and raising his glasses that were soon abandoned on the top of the sofa. Cris blinked to refocus on Leo’s face, so close to him, but then he closed his eyes.

It was almost hesitant. It was sweet. Unlike his hands, Leo’s lips were warm and tasted faintly of the dulche de leche that Cristiano had bought for him, making an exception for once to his character of the perfect athlete.

Leo moved his fingers to Cris’ ungelled curls, giving Cris yet another reason not to regret the (lack of) fashion choice for the night. He, in turn, cupped Leo’s nape and deepened the kiss. Tongues and teeth were now involved, but to Cris it was not a bit less sweet than before. Every kind of touching with Leo involved a tenderness that he had never felt for anyone else.

They separated only to breathe, their lips still brushing.

“You know, I can’t stop wondering…” Cris panted.

“Nnnh?”

“What exactly was I was doing in your fantasies?”

Leo tilted his head, biting his lower lip. There was again red spreading over his cheeks, but he had a mischievous smile. And then he turned around to resume his previous position, laying his back on Cris’ chest.

Cris moved to make them more comfortable, setting Leo between his legs, and enfolding him in his arms.

“Yes,” Leo said, “You were hugging me like this, tightly.”

Cris pulled him closer, palming his chest. Through the fabric of the t-shirt he could feel Leo’s nipples reacting from the attention.

“Like this?” Cris purred in his ear, before capturing the lobe with his teeth.

Leo startled and giggled at that. “Well, that is a nice improvisation.”

“Mmm, and this?” Cris asked as he moved his lips down over Leo’s neck, licking stripes of salty skin. 

Leo shifted, curving his back, exposing more neck to Cris’ torturing mouth, and at the same time lifting his pelvis up.

“I like your initiatives,” Leo said, and his low voice added a horse tone that was sent shivers running down Cris’ spine.

“Good,” Cris said, dropping a kiss at the base of Leo’s neck, where the red had spread. “But it was your dream. I need help, here, you have to tell me what to do.”

Leo didn’t reply. Not with words, at least. But he covered Cris’ hand with his own and pressed it against his body where his heart was beating like a crazy. And then he started to move it and Cris could feel the line of his abdominal muscles under his fingers. It took a moment of hesitation when they reached the waist; Leo’s Adam’s apple moved up and down as he gulped. But then Leo moved their hands to his groin with a quick movement.

Cris, on the contrary, had no hesitation in spreading open his hand and palming Leo’s bulge. Leo was already so hot and hard that he could feel it through the thickness of the denim.

Again, Cris took some liberty at that point as he pressed his hand harder and moved it in slow circles, brushing the crotch with the tip of his fingers. Leo was soon twitchy: soft moans were escaping with clumsy movement as he started to seek more contact, both with Cris’ hand and his body. His hair was tickling Cris’ cheek and yet Cris never stopped seeking more soft skin to kiss, to suck. Cris was moving his body as well: he couldn’t help it. He was already so hard that he needed to push against the warm back in front of him—even if that meant getting wet in his underwear as a teenager.

Leo’s cries seemed to have a similar frustrating tone at that moment. 

Cris’ fingers were hovering over Leo’s waistband, playing with the buttons of his jeans. “Was there this cage in your dream?” Cris asked, breathing warm air in his ear. The reply was nothing coherent. More like a whine, that Cris decided to read as an invite to proceed. 

Cris enclosed that thin waist with both of his arms, and Leo stretched down a little to ease the access to the buttons. He was now almost laying on Cris.

Leo’s cock was so hard that it popped out from the trousers as soon as they were open. There was a moment… an impression that Leo had stiffened a little, but when Cris grabbed his staff he made a little satisfied noise. It was soon muffled as Cris angled his head to give him access to his mouth.

Cris was almost regretting that he hadn’t freed himself as well, because now it was getting painful. Feeling Leo’s hardness sliding in his hand, Leo incoherent movements as he was brushing against him, and Leo’s mouth, that no longer tasted like dulce de leche but was still so sweet…

It was hard to resist, but he wanted to focus on Leo, and only Leo.

“It is better, isn’t it?” Cris asked, brushing a kiss on Leo’s cheek. 

Now he was sure that the stiffness wasn’t imagined. Nor was the following struggle: Leo moved so much that he escaped Cristiano’s grip. 

Cristiano wanted to kick himself. He’d done it again. He’d pushed Leo too much and he’d scared him. He was mortified. 

“I am sorry,” he said and there was not much more to add. He really wanted to kick himself.

But when Leo turn around, his eyes were warm and his fingers found Cris’ curls. “What did we say about saying sorry?”

The touch on his hair was soothing, but not enough to wash away his worries. “Well,” Cris said, “in this case, it was deserved. I was hurting you.”

“You weren’t,” Leo insisted, the denial being emphasised by the shake of his head. “In fact, it was… like the opposite.”

The end of the sentence was pronounced so quietly that it was hard to hear it. Cris did, but that didn’t necessarily mean that he understood it.

Somehow Leo managed to read the confusion on Cris’ face, and even if he was obviously dying of embarrassment he went on with his explanation. “This is not my fantasy. You are real.”

Or at least he tried. 

Cris frowned trying to understand what Leo was driving at, invoking a frustrating noise from Leo.

“I don’t want you to be here just to fulfil my fantasy! Remember? For me, what you want is important.”

Cris hands were now brushing over Leo’s skin, just under his t-shirt. “Well, I want to make you happy,” he tried to reassure him.

“Nothing more? You are telling me that you don’t want…” Leo gulped, trying to find some bravery. “Don’t you want this?” he asked, moving his hand to palm Cris cock.

The reply was a grunt that came from the depths of Cris’ throat.

Leo moved forward, brushing his lips on Cris lips. His hand was still moving, driving Cris crazy.

“Do you want this?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want me, Cris?”

“Yes.”

“Then take me.”

It was hard to control himself after that. If it were anyone else, Cris would have pinned him to the sofa and fucked him senselessly. But it was Leo, and he may be playing the provoking part, but he was still all red and cute and…

Well…

Kissing was not exactly like “fucking senselessly”. Even if Cris was putting more passion than usual in it. And he could feel Leo’s hands sliding under his shirt, and they felt like heaven. 

Cris didn’t stop devouring Leo’s kiss when he pushed him on his back. He was so beautiful, with his pink cheeks and his dark hair spread out on the black leather of the sofa. 

A fatherly kissed was posed on Leo’s forehead before Cris moved up. “Just wait for me for a second, ok?” At Leo’s nodding, Cris replied in turn with another, encouraging nod.

Cris could feel Leo’s eyes fixing on him while he moved to the drawer of the tea table and pulled out some lube. It was there, forgotten, from a life ago, before meeting Leo, before deciding that some things… some ones are more important than a quick fuck soon followed by a kiss goodbye.

Leo was still staring at him when he came back and sat himself on his legs. 

It was hard to read his mind when he had this expression. Leo was never particularly easy to read, Cris knew that in the worst way. So he couldn’t guess if Leo’s flared nostrils were due to arousal or wariness. But it didn’t matter because what Cris did know was that if Leo was scared or didn’t want to do something, he would tell him. They agreed about that and Cris wanted to trust Leo on that.

He caressed his cheek and stared back at him. This wasn’t a matter of lust, it was a matter of trust.

So Cris stared back at Leo as his fingers started to work on the buttons of his shirt. He was slow, deliberate, giving Leo all the time to stop him if he wanted. But when Leo reached out for him it was to touch his pectorals, and then to start sliding his hands over his shoulder, helping him to get rid of the shirt. 

Cris bent down to facilitate the movement, and of course he took the occasion to kiss those lips, plumped by all the kisses that they already shared. 

Leo’s hands were now struggling with Cris’ trousers, and Cris, in turn, was sick of the coarse cotton of Leo t-shirt under his hands. He moved his palms under the clothing, releasing a sigh at the contact of Leo’s hot skin. Leo moved his arms up obediently, allowing Cris to strip him, ignoring the soft dark strands falling across his forehead. Leo blew away the locks and gave a little encouraging smile. Who he was encouraging, Cris or himself, Cris didn’t know, but he proceeded down to his jeans, already open.

“We should finish the work we started, don’t you think,” Cris said lightly.

But Leo’s eyes were now staring again, darker than ever. The smile had disappeared.

“Leo?” Cris asked. Another slight nod was given, and Cris pulled down the denim.

What was revealed was amazing for Cris: the little, sturdy muscles, the milky skin, the pink nipples. Cris licked his lips looking down at that throbbing cock.

But the tension he had felt was clearly not only imagined. Leo was trembling. 

“Leo?” Cris put his hands on Leo’s hips. The touch was gentle, but didn’t stop Leo’s struggles. He watched as Leo angled his leg, to cover himself. 

Cris lifted a little, not wanting to impede his movements, and Leo turned on his left, facing the back of the sofa

“It’s ok, Leo,” Cristiano urged, trying to read his expression from the curtain of his hair. Cris’ hands were now drawing slow, smoothing circles on Leo’s back, in the most innocent of touches. “We don’t need to…”

“I want to!” Leo looked back. “It’s just…” his gaze went down again, just as his voice did. “Please…”

“What?” The caresses went on. Those were clearly not the problem. “What can I do for you Leo?”

Talking, explaining was painful for Leo, as it was his clear from his slight movements that were slowly bringing him into a fetal position. Cris was cursing himself for being unable to understand the issue without asking.

“Can you please don’t look at me?” Leo slurred at the end.

Cris frowned. Yes, he could do that. But maybe he could do something better instead. He looked around on the sofa and finally stretched out to reach for what he was searching for.

Leo looked back at him, curious at his movements, and Cris smiled a big smile, as he went over to him and started covering both of them in a cocoon with his big CR7 blanket.

“Better?” 

“Yes,” Leo sighed.

“Good,” Cris smiled, proud of himself. And nothing, really, could make him prouder than the feeling of having done the right thing with Leo.

The light was barely passing through the blanket, their bodies visible only like dim shadows. In the semi-darkness Cris had to grope around for the lube. After a generous amount was dropped on his fingers, he moved back to the other body that had stayed still, lying on his side where it was. Cris’ frame was so much bigger that he covered him as a second blanket, sliding his arm under Leo’s body and around his chest. 

“And now?”

“Now it’s even better,” Leo said, his voice muffled through the fabric of the sofa and the blanket. 

“Good,” Cris repeated, moving him closer, drunk from the contact of the skin of Leo’s back smoothing over his nipples. He closed his eyes, nuzzling Leo’s neck while moving his right hand to his entrance. He took his time, massaging away Leo’s tension at the first contact.

“I love you Leo.” He needed to tell him. It was a reassurance that he needed to give and to take. He loved him. He would never do something to harm him.

As a response, Leo grabbed Cris hand and kissed his palm lightly. “I know that. I trust you. You will never hurt me.”

As Cris kissed his neck, he finally moved forward with his middle finger. And he hated his own body for a second, because the warmth that he was feeling on his finger was soon spread to his cock, throbbing in reaction against Leo’s lower back.

Cristiano was unconsciously moving his body together with his finger. But he needed to stay calm, there was nothing good about rushing.

“Everything ok, Leo?”

“Yes, I… I think you can try…”

“Wait, let’s try with another finger before, ok?” Leo’s hair tickled his nose as he nodded. 

It entered smoothly, without any effort, and Cris released a breath he didn’t know he was keeping. It was okay. Everything was going to be okay. Leo was relaxed and humming in satisfaction, the blanket was covering their bodies and he knew, he knew that he could manage to do the right thing.

“I love you Leo,” he repeated, kissing his hair. And he had never been more sincere than in that moment. He loved him. He loved how he made his life more complicated. He loved the continuous challenge that he represented. He loved how he tried his best to be with Cris. He had to fight all his nightmares, all his fear, just to be there, with him. 

Little, sweet, stubborn Leo. 

He remained quiet as Cris removed his fingers, and then when Cris moved down a bit, positioning himself at the entrance. He remained quiet when Cris moved its head inside, but his hands clenched the blanket.

“Leo?”

“I am fine,” he gasped, “go ahead.”

“Mmm… wait, I have another idea.”

“What?”

“I just remembered,” Cris said, sliding his hand across Leo’s soft skin, letting his curves guide his movement until he found what he was looking for. 

Leo moaned softly when Cris grabbed his cock. “This was your fantasy, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” Leo said, slurring the s in a way that it made really difficult for Cris not to move. But he stayed still, only sliding his hand over Leo’s staff. He went on slowly, being sure to dedicate the right pressure to the entire length, from his base to his head, where he occasionally indulged with his thumb.

It was hard to stay still. But Leo was the only thing that matter there. And eventually Cris didn’t need to move, because it was Leo curving his back so he pushed himself backwards, allowing Cris to move into him. 

“Leo?” Cris still needed to ask permission. He still needed the reassurance that immediately arrived.

“Don’t be scared. I am ok.” And as a seal to that he interlocked his fingers with Cris’ across his chest. “I am ok.”

The grasp was tightened when Cris started to thrust into him, so again, Cris slid his thumb over Leo’s cock, making him moan in satisfaction. That was the signal for Cris to thrust again. 

And then again and again.

In that position he couldn’t go too deeply, and that was probably better for Leo. But what Cris could do was hold him tightly, almost enfolding him in his embrace.

Outside in the world Leo was a genius, a quick devil on the pitch, the hero of Barcelona. It didn’t matter. In that moment, in their nest of blankets, there was no more Messi or Lionel. He was just Leo, his shivering and moaning under his touches, digging his nails in Cris’ arm. 

And it was Cris, only Cris, the one that could protect him, the one that could make him cry out of pleasure. 

It was becoming messy. Cris needed to taste, to bite and savour. So he grabbed Leo’s cheek and tilted his jaw enough to kiss him, tongue lapping into the other’s mouth. Leo’s hands fidgeted with the loss of grip on Cris’ arm, and struggled to find yet another handhold, grasping the blanket and scratching the leather of the coach.

Cris was fucking him earnestly now, and his hand was following the rhythm while pumping Leo’s thick cock. At that point Leo’s delicious moans were substituted with a chant made of pleases and Cris’ name and, that, that was what was pushing Cris to the limit.

But he couldn’t. He shouldn’t. Leo had to be first, it all had to be for Leo, and that was what gave Cris the strength to stop, his head leaning on Leo’s nape, and his hand pumping him to the breaking point.

Only when he felt the body in his arms vibrating at the peak of pleasure did he allow himself to let go. There was no point in focusing on massaging Leo’s cock now, their bodies were moving together and Leo himself was fucking his hand until he came with a strangled cry, his back curving beautifully against Cris’ body.

Maybe it was that sound, or it was the proof of his success dripping on his hand, but that was enough for Cris. He came with a grunt muffled into the wet skin of Leo’s shoulder, and the small satisfied noise that Leo made when Cris filled him almost killed him.

It was hard to recover. Leo was dropping little kisses onto his knuckles and it was just too cute. Cris wanted to indulge in that cocoon forever and fall asleep like this. But he needed to move back at least the necessary little bit to pull out of Leo. And also, to be honest, he needed to breathe. 

“Leo?” Cris eventually asked. “Can I… Is it ok for you if I lift the blanket now?”

There was a second of silence before Leo hummed an affirmation.

It was only their heads that were revealed, and they both took advantage of the movement: Cris to roughly clean the mess that they had made, and Leo to turn around, facing him, although he still didn’t dare to look Cris in the eye.

But he was smiling, and Cris couldn’t resist posing a kiss on his dimple, tasting the salty sweat that was freezing on his face. 

“How…” Cris gulped, realising that he couldn’t ask “How it was” without sounding like a jerk. And in any case, that was not what he meant.

“I am ok,” Leo answered, saving him. 

Cris rested his head on his arm, drinking in the lovely face in front of him. Now Leo was finally looking at him, and smiling. He lifted his fingertips, brushing Cris’ lips. 

“And you? How are you?”

Cris kissed those fingers before moving Leo’s hand onto his own chest. Cris doubted that he could tell Leo how happy and in love he felt using mere words, and instead tried to let his heartbeat do the talking for him. “I think I am in heaven.”

He missed a beat though when Leo clenched around his hand and he lowered his eyes again.

“I think I have never told you,” Leo began.

And Cris’ mind braced himself. There was something more. Something that Leo hadn’t yet found the courage to confess, and Cris was already feeling sick. He couldn’t bear to know that something worse had happened to him. He couldn’t bear the idea that someone had hurt him. Not now. Not ever, if he was completely honest.

But still, if Leo wanted to talk, he would be there. He would always be there for Leo. It didn’t matter if he would have to face his parents or friend: Cris understood their worries but he was ready to prove them how much he cared for Leo. And maybe he would also have to face again Leo’s past. The slobs were still around, and they still had material to hurt Leo again if they wanted. It didn’t matter: Cris would always be by Leo’s side. That was his secret vow for him.

“Tell me, then,” Cris said, and he congratulated himself for even managing to produce an encouraging smile.

Leo looked up at him, earnestly.

“I love you, Cristiano.”

And then Cristiano really was in heaven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They did it!!! Yeaaahh XD   
> Writing it was so hard, lol. But at the end they had their deserved sex ;)
> 
> Anyway, I just want to thank again my wonderful readers. Thank you to my all my sweet commenters: Aid (the first commenter!), Tara, [AndreaDefao](http://archiveofourown.org/users/AndreaDefao/pseuds/AndreaDefao), [gammaray427](http://archiveofourown.org/users/gammaray427/pseuds/gammaray427), Vivia, [tigragrece](http://archiveofourown.org/users/tigragrece/pseuds/tigragrece), Hana, [Half_Fallen](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Half_Fallen/pseuds/Half_Fallen), Giana, Anon, [MarieJane](http://archiveofourown.org/users/MarieJane/pseuds/MarieJane), [Feral_Rocket](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Feral_Rocket/pseuds/Feral_Rocket), cat in cage, [TassyRiddle](http://archiveofourown.org/users/TassyRiddle/pseuds/TassyRiddle), Tania, [Slugger07](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Slugger07/pseuds/Slugger07), [nyasha](http://archiveofourown.org/users/nyasha/pseuds/nyasha), smile, [ strugglingwithlove ](http://archiveofourown.org/users/strugglingwithlove/pseuds/strugglingwithlove%20) , [ Blaugrana ](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Blaugrana/pseuds/Blaugrana), [ Leke_Eileen ](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Leke_Eileen/pseuds/Leke_Eileen), anon, Briana, me, [mrsmessi](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mrsmessi/pseuds/mrsmessi), Wendy+MSC, AnaMachado, Peach, Gina, Jeje26, [londonbird](http://archiveofourown.org/users/londonbird/pseuds/londonbird), [Cute_kitty69](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Cute_kitty69/pseuds/Cute_kitty69), [Persia2015](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Persia2015/pseuds/Persia2015), Yup, [jemmbk8](http://archiveofourown.org/users/jemmbk8/pseuds/jemmbk8), AM, [kawaii_marshmallow](http://archiveofourown.org/users/kawaii_marshmallow/pseuds/kawaii_marshmallow)  
> The list of the kudos is already there, but yeah, thank you very much to you as well *___*
> 
> I need to give a special mention to [MessiFangirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hpdm4ever/pseuds/MessiFangirl). She supported me so much! Basically she had to bear with me making a fuss to write every single line. Infinite patient, I am telling you. If this is readable is thanks to her editing work. And in fact, she is also editing the first chapters (she is crazy O.O), so in a few everything should be more readable. Above all, she is a wonderful human being and I am honoured of knowing her.


	16. Fanwork!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Collage of the Story

Lovely Nord_Sommer made me a collage and a playlist of the story and it is so beautiful I cannot not share it. Everybody should enjoy it. It's so beautiful. Everybody deserve to see it and, please, if you like it tell her because she deserves all the love of the world.

She also created a playlist!  
  


 

Too much beauty for me <3

**Author's Note:**

> I hope I have not offended anyone. This was not my intention.


End file.
